Weekly Challenge – Page 63 – The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Weekly Challenge #329 – Nothing

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Nothing.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

THOMAS

Nothing was as sweet as the peach they served with a dollop of real whipped cream. I savored it, taking small bites and holding it in my mouth for a long time, tasting the best peach I’ve ever eaten. When I was finished, I fired up the computer, and started writing some crap for 100 word stories. I was interrupted by a priest, the warden, and two guards. “Tom.. it’s time. We want to accompany you.” Funny, the priest was just as curious to see the warden’s new car as I was, but I had to wash and wax it.

Nothing was evident or easily measurable when they explored the Higgs boson. There were no particles or measurable matter detected. The bosun straddled the line between existence and nothingness, echoing the relationship with my first wife. The force that holds matter together is invisible, and subject to only the forces that come into play by basic observation. Again, similar to the relationship I had with my first wife. I used this valuable information to avoid any further exploration into the institution of matrimony to the point of ignoring the fervent emails from twenty-five year old, buxom virgins from East Africa.

“Nothing doing, mister. Certainly not. No way, Jose, uh-uh, nope, sorry. I’m not going to put that thing to my lips.” She resisted until I convinced her it was the only way she was going to learn how to play the sousaphone. She was tiny, and only just strong enough to heave the big instrument onto her bony shoulder. The sousaphone was the last instrument available for prospective band members, and Nancy had to fill her requisite number of volunteer and school activities in order to even be considered for the private university that her parents dreamed of her attending.

She whispered sweet nothings in my ear, breathing heavily, but faking that as well. One hand on my waist, and the other, reaching around to my hip in order to slip a couple of fingers into my pocket, and extract my wallet. I always carried a fake wallet when I drank in Tijuana. I filled it with Monopoly money and a note, written in English and Spanish that read: “If you try a reach-around with me, you will be disappointed.” Something like: “Si usted intenta un alcance – alrededor conmigo, usted estará decepcionado.” – my Spanish, written and spoken is rusty.

CALEDONIA

“A sultry voice, edged with ferocity brought Oedipus to a grinding halt. No! This was Thebes all over again – not another Sphinx! “Answer my riddle correctly, you enter the Acropolis. Answer incorrectly, you perish.” Oedipus kicked the dust, “Get on with it then” “Right! Insolence, Indignation, Regret: these mark a woman’s progress united by one word.” Oedipus kicked more dust. His mind saw his teenage daughter, eyes rolling and arms folded. It saw his wife, silent and frowning. Finally, his old maiden aunt sighing sadly. “Nothing” he replied to the stone. “Fine!” it replied, and gestured towards the open entrance.”

JEFFREY

A Deal with the Devil
by Jeffrey Fischer

Adam had somehow found himself in a race with Satan. Long story short, he answered Satan’s ad. If he won, he’d receive untold riches. Lose, and Satan got his soul. You know, the usual bet. His friends pointed out that Satan hated to lose, and oh, by the way, this was *Satan*, but Adam had a big ego and, to be fair, had consumed a six-pack at that point.

On the day of the race, spectators lined the course. Satan looked out of shape, and Adam opened a good lead. The finish line was in sight.

“Ha! Nothing can stop me now!”

He heard a loud crack and the skies opened. Literally. In an instant, a chasm appeared before him, swallowing the race course, the finish line, and the spectators. The chasm widened and engulfed everything in Adam’s field of vision. As Adam fell into the void, he felt Satan pluck his soul from his body.

TURA

Ever wonder why there’s something rather than nothing? Better not. Your brain will go funny if you find the answer. So don’t think about nothing! No, you’re probably safe, if you don’t know anything about quantum mechanics or Tegmark multiverses. It’s only when you really grok the mathematics of it that your brain crashes.

Hawking, I reckon he stumbled on a piece of it early, put him in a wheelchair and I don’t know how he goes on, thinking about physics all day and NOT thinking about– about– DON’T THINK ABOUT–

Sorry. They’re coming to give me my pills now.

LIZZIE

The world would end if he didn’t reach his destiny, they said. So he ran. He bore the saving truth as a flag to his chest over hills and mountains, through creeks and rivers. His path was difficult, but he didn’t give up, he ran. When he arrived, the world hadn’t ended yet, so he assumed he was in time to save it. He was wrong. He had brought the wrong truth. He would be the first to die, they said. “Doesn’t the effort count,” he asked. The answer was a slashing sound, his head, a ball on the floor.

SERENDIPITY

An odd thing, this ‘nothing’: You can’t see it, smell, it taste it or feel it, yet you know, without a shadow of doubt when it’s there:

“What do you see?”… “Nothing!”

“What’s in the box?”… “Oh, nothing.”

“And what did you get up to last night?”… “Nothing at all!”

Scientists say that both the infinite universe and the atoms that lie at the heart of everything are mostly… nothing.

It has no form, colour or essential qualities, yet it fills our lives, time and activities; it can be good bad, ugly or completely indifferent.

This ‘nothing’ sure is something!

TOM

Nothin’ from nothin’ leaves nothin’ You gotta have somethin’ If you wanna be with me. Yes he was a soldier in the war on poverty. He was Sgt. Pepper. The only session man to be credited on a Beatle’s album. He plaedy with the Stones, Clapton and Ray Charles. The man was a lyric factory. He told us “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one your with.” Billy Preston had a 10,000 watt smile and the riffs he laid down on this electric organ were worth of P-Funk. Not bad for a kid from Houston.

SHRUTI

She looked at the frayed makeshift curtains and worn out couch. They had tried to make it look pretty but it wasn’t her dream house yet. She loved being in control but today it felt like it was slipping away.

“Honey what’s wrong?”

They had talked about starting a family but now wasn’t the right time. She had hoped the doctor would tell her it was a false alarm, instead she had listened to the doctor tell her the choices they had.

He had enough worries.

“Nothing babe, It’s just been a tiring day.” She said as she held him.

SEVI AND BONCHANCE

“Nothing”

Lesson learned in life:
Nothing comes from nothing. How do you become something?
Naught multiplied by naught gives you nothing.

We are taught to “make something of ourselves”, otherwise we are nothing.
The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

I am nothing without you, proclaimed a lover, but what was the lover before?
If you have integrity, nothing else matters. Oh really?
Ma always said “too much of something is good for nothing”.
How do you know when too much turns into nothing?
Does something give it away?

When will it end?!? We are haunted by nothing!

“Nothing”

Mary heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Johnny! What are you doing in there?

Nothing Ma!

She ran to the kitchen too late. Her cherished serving plate, handed down to her from her Mother,
crashed to the floor shattering into thousands of little pieces.
She didn’t believe Johnny was doing “nothing”, just was never quick enough to intervene before disaster.
They had long talks that day about him getting into things. She could only hope.

During dinner, Johnny sat quietly at the table staring down at his plate.
Johnny, what are you thinking about?

Nothing Ma!

Sadly, she believed him.

MUNSI

Hello, my name’s Heinrich and this is Klaus. We’d like, if we may, to discuss nothing with you, because whatever you might believe in, rest assured, nothing is nearer and dearer to our hearts.

When you’re at your lowest ebb, and everything seems darkest, nothing can help you.

Where you think you’ve lost hope, nothing can save you!

Nothing matters, my friend. Nothing matters.

What? We can’t come in?

You haven’t time? We understand, though nothing is more important than what you’re doing right now.

Still: May we leave you with a copy of the book Nausea, by Jean-Paul Sartre?

ZACKMANN

Nothing to do.
Wish I had an extra battery for my smartphone.
Maybe I could have brought a charger but where would I have plugged it in.
I brought a book but did not get enough sleep before coming to
concentrate that much.
Never guessed my battery would not outlast time I had before being
required to turn phone off.
I was surprised to find lite traffic and find a parking space.
I knew I would have to turn off my phone.
Why didn’t I think to bring my watch.
Time to go upstairs.
The judge is summoning potential jurors.

GUARD 13007

“Everybody ready?” the room’s controller asked. I looked around, everyone was buckled in, silent. A few held those little bags you get in case you throw up, a few had death grips on their harnesses. “Room B is go.” he said into the headset he was wearing, and strapped himself back in.

There were no windows, no speaker, but I could hear the countdown, see the launch. The room started rumbling and shaking. I thought of the fuel sitting beneath us. And suddenly, we were moving, faster and faster.

When we got into space, there was nothing left of home.

BOTGIRL

Myth and religion served God for thousands of years until that smart ass Roger Bacon doomed the world with the experimental process. The bible was right. God created the universe. But with smoke and mirrors. It only worked because people believed. God had to constantly scramble to come up with a plausible explanation every time some nosy scientist peered a little deeper into the universe: Atoms . . . Neutrons. . . Higgs Bosons . . . all were improvisations to avert oblivion. Unfortunately, humans eventually woke up to the nothingness hiding under the cosmic shell game. And there was darkness again on the face of the deep.

UNCLE MONSTER

The realtor told me there were stories of ghosts. I said there was nothing to it. Ghosts. Please. The first night, I heard a noise in the attic. I thought maybe it was a squirrel or a raccoon, so I checked it out. Nothing. The next night, I heard something crash in the living room. When I looked, again there was nothing. Every night, a different room. Kitchen. Nothing. My office. Nothing. Basement. Nothing. I heard something shatter in the bathroom but when I got in there, there was no sign of broken glass. I looked in the mirror. Nothing.

ANIMA ZABALETA

Sweet Nothings

Babe, roll over. You’re snoring again…

Get those frozen feet off me! How is it your toes are colder than Siberia in winter?

You’re hogging all the blankets again!

I need more room here; I’m teetering on the edge of the bed. Re/Max has less real estate than you!

Honey, can you turn the light out? It’s 2 a.m. No, really. I have to work in a few hours.

In the hamper! Hang it up! Were you born in a barn? Not there!

Come closer. Did I tell you how special you are? Did I mention I love you today?

REDGODDESS

“The American people deserve a candidate with experience…” the newsanchor declares. With coffee brewing and toast in one hand, Lola listens to the morning news as she dresses for her 16 hour shift. She mutes the TV unable to digest more than 30 seconds of packaged promises. She watches the news in small doses the same way she would like to eat fatty foods, but who can afford it? These career politicians have finessed the art of promising nothing while expecting voters to give absolute commitment. Lola is part of the new working poor. She has become immune to charismatic political puppets.

NORVAL JOE

Cliff Evans had always been proud of his 1957 Chevy Bel Air. All original, the numbers matched and the radio always played. But not tonight. He scanned through the stations and got nothing, not even from across the border.
The engine rattled to a stop on an empty stretch of Highway 101. He tried the ignition. Nothing. No spark.
His girlfriend in the back seat was silent. Usually a constant chatterbox, but tonight, nothing.
He got out of the car and under a moonless sky, he pulled the corpse from the back seat and rolled it into an empty ditch.

DANNY DWYER

Can you create something from nothing? Can I die, and have my brain ressurected? Once upon a time, by brain, it was something. I mastered the English language, and I could create with it whatever I wanted. Then, I died. My entire body rejected itself. Every cell in my body experienced a catastrophic moment, and collapsed within itself. Once I was something, and in an instant, I became nothing. Then I was resurrected. My brain was scanned into a very powerful Quantum computer. Now, I live my life in cyberspace, something, yet at the same time, I live in nothing.

PLANET Z

I never had any imaginary friends. Instead, I had an imaginary rock.

It just sat there and did nothing.

When other kids would talk to their imaginary friends, I’d pick up my imaginary rock and bash in their imaginary heads, and kill those jerks.

How the other kids got all bloodied up, I have no idea, because my rock was imaginary and you can’t get hurt by an imaginary rock.

Still, I got taken out of that school and sent to a special school.

With bars. And cameras. And lots of pills I have to take.

And no imaginary rocks.

Weekly Challenge #328 – Fair

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Eight, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Fair.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

CIRCE

Look Here

Damn it, we are going to hell in a handbasket. We suffer storms never before at

such wide destrution.. (unless you count the Great Flood, of the Noah story).. We

go to see a movie and get mowed down like in a class B gangster movie.. We have to

be careful to be very PC about how we talk about that.. And oh, don’t eat Chick Fil

A … but HEY, try to remember that we are supposed to have the right to our own

opinion, and freedom of speech and what the hell has happened to us? Oh, my God!

LIZZIE

The Drama Fair promised to be thrilling; stress, arguments, misunderstandings, all in one place and for such a low price too. He checked the ticket, 1W. That was odd, in the chart the rows went up to 100M. He didn’t remember a W. But he followed the signs and eventually saw an arrow pointing him in the right direction. When he got to his place, he saw no one. “Where’s the drama?” The place was empty. He looked around and found a sign saying “Warning, enforced no drama area”. “What?! Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have bought the cheapest ticket…”

THOMAS

Blond and fair, button nose. Lovely wrote poems, read them from her iPad. She read at the First Friday Open Mic Night. She stood close to the microphone, almost touching it with her glossy lips. She tossed her hair. Once, twice. We could hear her breathing as she read each line. From the back of the room, her friends snapped photos of her at the podium. It was like a rock concert. Lovely’s poems were desperate and insipid. We tried to be polite. Clapped when she finished. She curtsied, and I tasted a little bile in my mouth. Coffeehouse poet.

A fair weather friend, Norvil only called if he wanted to borrow the lawnmower, or to ask if I would pick something up for him next time I’m at the big hardware store in the city. I wouldn’t see him for months, and then the call. “Can I borrow your extension ladder. Yes? OK. Do you have a spare paint roller and pan? Great. I’ll be out, but if you can bring them over, my wife is home. Just leave them around back. Great. Super. Oh…your rose bush is hanging over the side fence. Do you mind cutting it back?”

Mrs. Frye was not fair at all. She taught American History, and relied on the rote method for everything. She tolerated no humor or anyone getting out of their seat. I would be out of my seat all the time. I was bored, and I hated the topic. She taught, but I didn’t learn. I used the class period to write in my notebook, copy gunpowder formulas out of the encyclopedias, or to go up behind Shirley Ragsdale and squeeze a bosom or two, and sometimes put a wet finger in her ear and wiggle it until she cried out.

SHRUTI

According to the advertisements she should have been 3 shades fairer by now. If only for once they told the truth. She’d tried all her grandmother’s recipes of milk, honey, lemon juice and what not. None of it had worked.

She turned 25 in September. If she didn’t find a match soon, the only eligible men would be divorcees and widowers. Her father would never hear of it.

To add to her troubles, societal norms said Ajay and Priya couldn’t get married until she, the elder sister was settled.

She looked at her dusky reflection and sighed…

Life wasn’t fair.

JEFFREY

When we were growing up, my kid brother Dan and I had very different approaches to getting Halloween loot. I’d carefully plan a lengthy evening, hitting a lot of houses – and I knew who gave out the good stuff, the Snickers and Reese’s Cups, not toothbrushes and that godawful Mike & Ike crap. Dan would hit a handful of our neighbors and call it a night.

Then the fun would begin. Against my protests, our parents would combine the candy and reallocate it between the two of us (snagging some of the best pieces for themselves, I might add). I might have done 70% of the work, but I ended up with less than half the haul.

“That’s not fair!” I’d whine, but of course Dan didn’t see it that way. “He’s your brother,” Mom always said, “so you need to split things with him.” I’d mutter under my breath, but my parents enforced their rule. As I got older, I realized the only thing I could do was to hit fewer houses, so my pile slowly shrank.

Now I run a successful business. Dan is a politician. I guess some things never change.

SERENDIPITY

The young woman arrived in the village in the early Autumn. Fayewren – for that was the maiden’s name – was fair and fresh of face, unlike the dark-skinned, ruddy-cheeked women of the village. Her flaxen tresses framed her delicate face; her lips, like rose petals, adorning her porcelain skin.

The young men, of course, entranced by her presence, followed her like puppy dogs, but they were charmless and uncouth in her sight – quite simply, she was the very epitome of beauty and grace.

We fed her to the dragon anyway – well, fair maidens are devilishly hard to come by!

TOM

“Fair is Fair,” yelled Frankie firing a burst of 9mms into the void.

“Fair is Fair,” screamed Johnnie returning the volley with a round of full metal jackets.

Next came a sortie of tow missiles followed by a barrage of MGM-51s.

“Whimp,” bellowed Frankie letting loose of his scuds.

“Pussy,” mocked Johnnies sending his Russian ICBMs into the black.

“Take, This,” ragged Frankie powering up his imperial death star.

“OH Yea,” railed Johnnie engaging his Ming the Merciless death ray.

Both of them hit the Super String Triple K Electron Resequencer button simultaneously. From the void came, “You missed.”

MUNSI

Fair?

Where does fairness become relevant?

Nobody ever said life was fair.

Nasty? Sure, life’s that. Brutish? Absolutely. Short? Oh yes, far too short. Doesn’t seem short at first, but as you live you realize it’s shorter than any man can reasonably bear.

But fair? No. It’s unreasonable to even hope it might be. I’ve no idea who’s been filling your head with such nonsense. Fairness…

Oh, I said life was fair? When did I say that?

Yesterday?

Oh, yeah, I vaguely recall that.

I lied.

People lie sometimes, get over it.

After all, nobody ever said life was fair.

TURA

There were a human, a Ferengi, and a Klingon. They plotted to hijack a spaceship and steal its cargo of unrefined dilithium. The human’s subterfuge got them on board undetected. The Klingon overcame the crew. The Ferengi was able to get the best black market price for the dilithium.

To divide the spoils, the human proposed, “We should have equal shares. That is fair.”

The Ferengi responded, “No! Without me, you could never have got such a good price. I claim half! That is fair!”

The Klingon drew his disruptor and killed them. He roared, “may ‘oH! Hoch vItlhap jItlhInganmo’!”*

(*) “THAT is fair! I take everything, because I am a Klingon!”

YORDIE

Uncle Bill told us we were going to stop at Mr. Gawddamnit’s house so he’d open the gate.

Cousin Michael asked, “who is Mr. Gawddamnit?”

Aunt Annie explained, “When Mr. Gawddamnit was a boy he got hit in the head with an axe. He lived but afterward the first word he said was ‘gawddamnit.’ And he never stopped.”

Uncle Bill said, don’t annoyed him because he’s crazy.

We arrived at Mr. Gawddamnit’s gate. He said, “Gawddamnit hey Mr. Bill!” and “Gawddamnit got that gate!”

We drove through and the man looked at us. He said, “Gawddamnit Miss Annie… pretty kids!”

CLIFF

Mirror mirror on the wall.
Who’s the fairest of them all?
The butcher is a man quite sound.
He sells meat by the honest pound

Mirror why do you vex?
I mean fairest of the fairer sex!
The barmaid by the name of Sal
Whether you’re drunk or straight, she’s an honest gal.

Mirror when I speak of fair,
I speak of beauty, skin and hair.
But my queen, you can’t deny
That beauty’s in the beholders eye.

Mirror, I’ve a hammer here
Now can you make your answer clear?
Oh, now I understand,
You’re the fairest in the land.

ZACKMANN

“I need your fare if you want to ride this shuttle to the ticket gate
but if you don’t want to pay it is less than a two miles away. Since
it is such a fare day you might enjoy the walk.” said the shuttle
driver.
“Fair is fair, I will be doing a fair amount of walking already,
Hopefully enough to walk off the deep fried fare. Last year my diet
did not fare well and my fare wife threatened to find me a fair deal
on a hog scale if I didn’t stop eating too much fair food.”

BOTGIRL

“So you don’t have any money?” he crooned in an oily voice that made her cringe right down to her painted toes. “That’s fine. I’m sure we can figure out a fair trade.”

She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to choke the leer out of his little weasel eyes. But she hurt. Hurt bad.

“I guess a loan’s out of the question?” she joked. Stalling.

“You’ll get what you want when I get what I want,” he said, unzipping his pants.

“Fine,” she sighed, forcing down the bile in her throat. “Bend over you little bitch.”

SEVI AND BONCHANCE

Fair by Sevi and BC

At the edge of the woods, a fun house stood near the fair.
A dishevelled clown stood at the entrance luring people in with an evil grin.
Admission was 50 cents.

Clumsy reeked of drink, people were put off.
The next day, a new sign. “Free Puppies on Exit”

Sally paid. She almost made it to the exit alive.
A few feet from the exit, she noticed the decaying skeletons.

Suddenly 13 ferocious snarling little puppies, led by Pablo and Espi’s lil Pepe rushed towards Sally.
Screams pierced the air as sharp milk teeth sunk into her tender soft skin.

Fair by Sevi and BC

Tom knew life wasn’t fair. His existence was filled with hardships,
He called orphanages some sort of “home” since a wee boy.

By 9 years old, an accomplished thief, his first murder at age 12.
Tom lived tough, never expecting or giving any kindness in his life.

Standing at the gallows, he reminisced as the executioner tightened the noose.
His reverie was interrupted by the warden saying: “As a courtesy sir, do you have any last words?”
He shook his head no, thinking to himself….. FINALLY!
The executioner later remarked seeing Tom smiling as the death hood slipped into place.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

Randoph growled from behind the curtain. “It isn’t right.” He tensed, but I restrained him with a hand.

“Not yet, brother.” Our nostrils flared with the smells of teenagers drenched in perfume and desperate older women. “Not yet.”

The movie marathon paused before the final film.

“Now,” I said, extending my fangs as, under the moonlight, Randolph’s fur sprouted from his skin.

We strode before the screen, sparkling body lotion glittering, the crowd going wild.

Afterward, Randolph kept muttering. “Still not right. We deserve more than minimum wage.”

“Plus tips,” I said, retrieving dollar bills from my pants. “Plus tips.”

REDGODDESS

This month, the state transportation authority raises the fares for buses and trains. They triple the price for seniors and students. In some areas, bus routes are restricted. Commuters take to the streets. They jump the turnstiles to show these power hungry executives they are fed up. Lola sees all sides of the argument even though she too, will be affected by these changes. She wonders how is it fair for people to choose whether to buy groceries, medications or pay for a damn bus pass? It seems these transportation managers cut their sense of decency with the annual budget.

ANIMA ZABALETA

Lulu is a grand mountain of a madam.

She’s housemother for the trapeze girls, the one they come to for emotional support when the applause and the their looks begin to fade.
Lu feeds the lions and tigers, tossing hefty bales of catnip to her “kitties”.
She always has a pot of verbena tea brewing, with maybe a drop of something stronger for the Midway barkers when their throats are raw.
Lulu is fearless as she chides the Ringmaster when he is being overly arrogant.

She might have a beard and weigh 700 pounds, but she is my fair lady.

DANNY

The Fairness Doctrine, meant to ensure that a variety of views, beyond those of the licensees and those they favored, were heard on our airwaves. In August 1987, the FCC abolished the Fairness doctrine by a 4-0 vote. This allowed Newt Gingrich, in the GOPAC memo of 1994, to strongly advocate describing Democrats as decay, failure, collapse, deeper, crisis, urgency, destructive, sick, pathetic, liberal, betray, shallow, traitors, and sensationalists. This position has been adopted wholeheartedly by our mainstream media, owned by the rich and affluent, and hell bent on not telling news, but making profits. Well, doesn’t that sound FAIR, (and BALANCED)!

NORVAL JOE

Owen screamed as only a chicken could. He flapped his wings and tried to escape the wizardess’s strangle hold. After her arms were arms were scratched, pecked and bleeding Shareeka stuffed the chicken into a canvas bag.
To be fair Owen was a chicken and, rather than wait for him to reverted to his normal form, Shareeka turned Traveler into a chicken hawk. Lunging into the sky in search of the demon hoard Traveler screeched at the boy. What chicken wouldn’t act like, well, a chicken?
Even more unfair was an hour later when Owen reverted to being a boy.

PLANET Z

Buttons always sleeps on my twin sister’s bed.

Our friends and parents can’t tell us apart, but Buttons can.

I’ve traded beds with her, but Buttons still sleeps next to her.

Treats under my pillow. Catnip on the blanket.

It’s not fair.

I beg my parents for another cat, saying how Buttons is lonely and needs a cat-friend.

I promise to clean the litterboxes, pay for the vet bills out of my allowance, and get good grades.

We pick up a kitten. I name her Mittens.

That night, I watch her sleep, curled up against Buttons on my sister’s bed.

Weekly Challenge #327 – Feather

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Seven, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was feather.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

THOMAS

He feathered his nest, using his former office and contacts as a politician to find work as a consultant and get booked for a number of speaking engagements. After a few years outside of his political office, he accumulated millions, and a home on the beach in California. All the people he had taken advantage of visited him in his nightmares and reduced him to a sleepy bag of gristle and tendons. He sought salvation by giving to his church and donating to the senior center, but it was too late, and the gods still thought he was an dick.

Macie feathered the prop, as the starboard engine failed 50 miles from her destination in the mountains of Chile. She felt confident that she could make it with her port engine, but she would have to dump some cargo. The copilot, Dan, rushed to the door and started heaving things out of the plane. First, the crate of heavy sewing machine parts, and then crates of tools and spare engine parts for the generator at the orphanage. Still heavy, Dan grabbed the collar of two missionaries and nudged them overboard. Only then could Macie bring the big plane in safely.

She cleaned the body with a damp rag and the feather duster. Carefully, Monica tidied up after the orgy of mayhem she was responsible for. The victim, her boyfriend, teased her and pushed all her buttons. She had put up with his unfaithfulness, his foul mouth, and his careless and selfish lovemaking, but Monica lost it when he burned the strip steak and ruined the ratatouille. He didn’t apologize for the meal, but bragged that he was the better chef. He droned on, until Monica put the heavy cleaver into the back of his neck as he sat, shelling peas.

TOM

The yellow feather was mounted on the sight of his Infield Rifle. At first no one was willing to stand on either side of Lt. Clive Dinsmore. The regimental symbol of cowardness had branded the Young Turk as a man without honor. Long after he had proven his valor Clive keep the feather. In time the yellow feather became the symbol of the regiment. All but one officer flew the feather. Clive realized he was the one who had falsely marked him. Clive removed the feather and dropped it at the true coward’s feet. The regiment resighted and opened fire.

GUARD 13007

I opened the door to my room, threw my backpack on the floor, kicked the door shut, and fell to my bed. I lay facedown for a minute, thinking about how today was, wondering if the school had called my parents for ditching half my classes.

They hadn’t said anything to me yet, but that really didn’t mean anything. They were probably too mad about it happening again to say anything.

I got up again, feeling the slight rush of fresh air after being buried in a pillow. I looked down at my bed, at the small feather laying there.

SERENDIPITY

Considering he’s a genius, he can be a real idiot sometimes… They tell me I’m lucky to be alive.

He gingerly enters my hospital room, smiling apologetically.

“You jerk!”, I exclaim, “Can’t you follow a simple instruction? We went through it all six times… two windows: Right hand window – FEATHER! – How could you get it wrong?”

Galileo shrugged, then broke into a great big grin: “The experiment worked though – they both fell at exactly the same velocity, just as I predicted!”

“Oh, they did indeed”, I responded angrily, “right up until the point that damn hammer landed on my skull!”

ANN

It started as a normal dog walk.

We heard shrieking cries from the end of the street. Was it cries of alarm?

Look! Up in the Poplar!

The large Red-tailed Hawk screeched and swooped, glided and perched, again, and again.

Flight training? We stopped to watch and listen.

Another launch and the bird glided over us dipping his wings….

Look at me!

I craned my neck watching the bird swoop across above us.

What? Slowly spiraling down was a pristine gifted feather.

Could I catch it before it reached the ground?

Yes! Score!

I smiled as the bird flew away.

JEFFREY

Once upon a time there were two princesses. They were very competitive. If Emmaline learned to jump a five-foot hedge riding her horse, Honoria would attempt a six foot jump. Should Honoria compose a sonnet in iambic pentameter, Emmaline would surely scribble sixteen lines instead of fourteen, and write it in iambic hexameter to boot.

It was therefore no surprise that, when Honoria announced she was so sensitive that she could sense a single pea placed in a layer of mattresses, Emmaline one-upped her sister by claiming that *she* was so sensitive she could sense even a feather in the bed. The contest was on.

Servants prepared suitable beds for the sisters. Honoria settled herself gently on her bed, wiggled once, and grimaced. She pointed the waiting servant to the exact location of the pea, to the applause of the onlookers.

Now it was Emmaline’s turn. She climbed on the stack of mattresses. Nothing. Wiggled. Still nothing. How could this be? Surely she was more sensitive than her boorish sister. She left the bed and took a running start at it. Leaping at the mattresses, she went airborne – and missed the bed entirely. “Ow,” she said, to the sound of muffled laughter.

Honoria stood watching, trying to look innocent, a feather twirling in her fingers.

SHRUTI

“I met someone”, she said taking off the mask. “We danced together all night. He’s meeting me for coffee tomorrow.”

Arya listened to her daughter gush about the boy and looked at the mask.

She had needed to stick a few feathers back but it looked as beautiful as when she had worn it.

It was party long ago.

He had asked her for a dance and they had stayed partners the whole night. A month later he asked her to marry him.

She dusted the tinsel off the feathers and smiled. It looked like another love story was beginning.

CIRCE

I searched the grid for a red feather I’d seen in an ad. It was brilliant and dangling from an earlobe. This happens a lot to me, and now, retired, I have time to hunt. First, go to all the stores you can find that carries that item – in this case, earrings… Then obtain a snapshot of the item, which might involve buying something you dont want at all, like the loathsome hair this particular feather showed up with. Then show it to shoppers in a jewelry store.. then count to see if your story is 100 words long yet.

SEVI AND BONCHANCE

Spill

George worked frantically from dawn to dusk before the talking heads emerged. The coverage was sure to stir
interest. People would come to help, they said.

“Look pretty boy, if you want to help, pitch in. If you are afraid to get your hands dirty, get the hell outta my
way.”

Exhausted, George stepped away from the oil soaked shore with a bundle in his hands. Suddenly, a camera was pushed
in front of his face. Fed up, he tiredly held up the bundle presenting two dead birds en-meshed in oil.
He smiled despairingly saying, “Birds of a feather stick together.”

Feathered Hope

Emily listened to the surgeon. In shock, vaguely hearing the words, locally advanced, surgery, colostomy and six
months of chemotherapy.

Emily was now looking for hope. She remembered somewhere that hope was made of feathers. She walked absentmindedly
and happened upon an old Chinaman with a peacock. He was selling it as food. Emm bought it thinking only of its
feathers to make a soup of hope.

Ten days later, she called 911 in agony. “Sorry Emily we need to operate immediately!”
For saving her life, she presented Dr. Lancet with a dream catcher made of peacock feathers.

MUNSI

His bangs feather like the wings of some majestic bird, even at forty-five.

The hair’s thinner now, but the bangs haven’t changed.

He’s gone to this pub since nineteen, since his last hit, though he didn’t know it’d be his last at the time. People here leave him alone.

Mostly.

She, nearly forty herself, works up the courage to approach. She’s been trying all night.

“I’m sorry, but aren’t you?”

“Why yes, I am.”

She blushes, fourteen again, and he smiles that same smile from years before.

And taking her home later, he can’t help thinking: Life isn’t so bad.

TURA

Day 37.

I found a feather, as long as my forearm.

Since cast up on the coast, this is the first sign of any sizeable animal. The poor fruits and insects I have been eating cannot sustain me indefinitely. I am hoping the bird is flightless. Might the dodo survive here?

Day 39.

I found another feather, longer than I am tall. The root was bloody, as if torn off in a fight. Then I saw how the ground was torn up, as if by huge talons.

The question is not, can I catch them? but, can they catch me?

PAM

Don’t Pick up that Feather

Martha had always been fascinated by feathers. She longed to touch them, turn them, and watch the sun reveal their hidden colors. But Mother had always said, “Don’t pick up that feather!”

“It’s dirty.”
“You’ll get a disease.”
“It’s full of germs.”
“You never know where it’s been.”

Mother was gone now, but if alive, she would be so proud, Martha thought as she sat in the midst of her collection of thousands of dead and mummified birds. All her life she had never picked up a feather; good thing Mother never said don’t pick up a dead bird.

ZACKMANN

Lawrence wonders if anyone ever takes him seriously.
He sees a man in his early thirties walking up to him.
“Crap,” he says “when I joked about spoiling for a fight I did not
expect a featherweight champion to suddenly show up.”
“That is Featherweight and seven other weight class titles but Dont
worry man, I know you were joking about wanting to fight especially
against me. I am looking for someone called Zackmann to have a little
talk with him about a comment he made on my youtube channel saying
“As a singer, Pacquiao is a really great boxer.”

LIZZIE

“Write it down, son, write it down” said the blind Maester.

It was the will. Rowan the apprentice tried to keep up, furiously writing with the feather. It was unique, a feather of the extinct giant eagle, and if anything, he wanted it as his Maester’s legacy to him.

“…the feather is to be given to…”

Me, he thought.

“…Jeremiah.”

Rowan frowned.
He wanted to tell his Maester that Jeremiah would never return, he made sure of that, but his courage failed him and the anguish of seeing that precious feather have no certain destiny made him scribble “…Rowan” instead.

KATFANCY

Mark wanted to pay it forward. He thought of ideas and remembered an article about laughter adding years to life. Mark didn’t know any jokes, but he did have a feather collection. It was a hot day and he knew there would be hoards of people outside. He tickled several people at the beach unsuspectingly with two turkey feathers and each person laughed, while he ran away. Later, a lady he tried to tickle didn’t react with laughter. Instead, she turned around and slapped him in the face. Feeling ashamed, Mark walked away with his tail feathers between his legs.

CLIFF

Feathered Dreams
She was born with feathers instead of hair. The doctor said it was extremely rare but perfectly harmless. Her grandmother said that it was because she was blessed by the angels. The neighbors said it was because her mother smoked dope while pregnant. An uncle in Montana swore it was due to government experimentation. Everyone had a theory. Before she turned two, the feathers fell out and were replaced by beautiful curly red hair. Eventually, everyone forgot about the feathers. But even now, twenty years later, she dreams every night of feathers and wings and flying high above the world.

Duck Feather
As a kid, the guys said that if I wanted to learn to swim, I should eat a duck feather. I called them liars. Two weeks later, I declared that I’d eaten a feather at my uncle’s farm while on vacation. I couldn’t wait to hit the pool. Soon, I was at the edge of the deep end, someplace none of us had dared go before. I took a breath, jumped, and swam the length of the pool twice. The guys headed to the park for their own duck feathers. I never told them about my cousin the swimming instructor.

REDGODDESS

Work monopolizes Lola’s time. Even on her days off, she can’t stop worrying about unfinished projects. “What happened to the adventurous Lola?” She wondered. To loosen up, she accepts another invitation from the mystery guy. Tonight, they’re dining at the waterfront sky lounge. Their conversation about food, travels, and work flows seamlessly. He even laughs at her silly jokes. Before finishing her last bite of dessert, he asks playfully, “for our next date, choose one thing I can bring: a scrabble board, feather or ice cream.” Intrigued, she leans toward him, whispers in his right ear, “how about all three.”

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

John and Richard stared across no man’s land toward the enemy position.

Richard’s hands flittered, filled with nervous energy, across his weapon. “We’re in a bad position, sir.”

John gripped his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t talk like that, soldier. We will persevere.”

“But, the enemy is heavily fortified, and-”

“Nevermind that. Ready your weapon!” John gripped his, white-knuckled. “Charge!”

The two leapt together out of the trench and assaulted the enemy fortification.

When John’s mother opened the door to check on the sleepover, a cloud of feathers still floated over the four boys and the shattered remains of the pillow fort.

——-

”I won’t leave,” she said, her voice barely audible over clinking glasses and murmuring diners.

“I… I mean…” His voice splutters, echoing derailed thoughts. “I thought this was nice. Here. Us.”

The soft words of her reply slammed into him. “I have too much back home.” She reached across the table and put her left hand on his twisting fingers. He glanced at her fingers, bare of both wedding band and the ring he’d given her. “I can’t leave there.”

“You won’t leave there,” he said. “You won’t leave him.”

Her silence was that of bloodied feathers falling on snow.

NORVAL JOE

They raced through the forest beyond the dead city, avoiding roads and clearings where the demons could see them from above.
“We can’t outrun these demons. They know our destination,” Owen said.
“We’ll approach from a different direction, but we need to know they’re no longer on our trail,” Shareeka said. She handed Owen a feather.
“I’ll turn you into a bird. Scout the area and return with your report.” Shareeka spoke the spell.
Owen flapped his wings and looked to the sky.
Shareeka cursed and said, “Traveller, pick up the chicken. We’ll try again when the spell wears off.”

DANNY

This story revolves around a college football game between the fictional Darwin and Huxley Colleges. It simply amazes me how eligibility rules have been stretched by collegiate athletic departments for over a century. This permits Professor Wagstaff to hire ringers from the local speakeasy down the street, allowing Huxley to win the football game by taking the ball into the end zone in a horse-drawn chariot made from a garbage wagon. Then, after Darwin figures out the game was rigged, a 60 million dollar fine and 4 year suspention is imposed on Huxley. You could have knocked me over with a Horse Feather.

PLANET Z

Most kids buy coffee mugs or ties for their fathers on Father’s Day.

I was no different.

“That’s your blood on there,” Dad says, pointing at the red crust along the crack in the handle of the World’s Greatest Dad mug.

And inside of it: feathers.

I remember the card. Big Bird from Sesame Street.

“HAPPY FEATHERS DAY”

Bert and Ernie crossing out the E.

I’d torn open a pillow, thought I’d wake my dad by shaking it open over him.

He didn’t think it was funny. Neither did the maid.

I wear my hair long to cover the scar.

Weekly Challenge #326 – Power

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Six, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was power.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

THOMAS

The power went down just as Elton was in the middle of transport. Elton’s head appeared on the test stage . It was blue and cold. The rest of Elton was left in the vacuum chamber in the lab, and it, too, was blue and cold. Elton was a senior at the Tesla lab, and as such, was not the most popular or likeable man on the team. The janitor had been chastised by Elton, and as soon as the warning tags “do not power off” appeared on the panel, he flipped them over, sticking big smiley faces on them.

After the billionaire died, power passed to his son. The boy, Ulrich, was a liar, miscreant and determined to own the most rare of items in the most bizarre collection anyone could imagine. He went through underground channels, Chinese and Romanian middlemen, and New Jersey Mobsters to acquire Galileo’s thumb, first stolen in 1905, and Pope Shenouda’s nose, which had been buried at a desert monastery. Ulrich would indulge his friends at cocktail parties by showing everyone his collection. After a few months, the newest item joined the collection. Ulrich had his father’s johnson stuffed and displayed in the library.

It was power hour at Hillie’s Pub. For one hour, we were to drink a shot of draft beer, every minute. I figured that was about five, full beers. I was a little guy, and weighed about 145, wet. The bartender had a CD that she put together. Every minute a new tune would play, and that was our signal to pound another shot. After twenty shots, I had a buzz going, and after 30, I got loud and nasty. After forty, I took off my pants and dirty danced with Heloise, the house barfly. At 50, I passed out.

TOM

“For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever, Amen.” I’ve been messing with the bible since, well, the beginning. Not major stuff like two completely different genealogies for Yeshua bar Yahosef. Just some small stuff tacked on to keep theologians busy. As you will note my signature works is a good doxology, actually an over the top doxology. Think about it, a man who encourages you pray in a closet, turn the other cheek, suddenly goes all power and glory, get real. I actually ran the line by him, didn’t much care for it.

CHANTE

His head lifted at the scent of outside. A quick inspection rewarded him: an open door. He nudged it further with his nose, and the wide world beckoned as enticing as bacon or water after a run.
“Buzz, come!” he heard in the wind. Commanding and stern. Then “Treat!” said with a pleading edge.
But, there were trees to mark. The smells of others, fresh and old. People to bark at and who knows what more? No leash tugged at his throat, a mere couple feet afforded by its length. He’d return to the pack after a block or so.

SERENDIPITY

The pen may be mightier than the sword, but without words, the pen has no power.

Nobody was ever stirred to action by a felt-tip’s fervour, or moved to tears by a fountain pen’s pathos – no-one recoils from the acid bite of a biro or succumbs to the seduction of a murmuring magic marker.

Rather, it is the power of words that draws us in, caresses our souls and enfolds us in empathy. That same power which spurs us on to battle and fuels our victory cry!

Words are powerful things…

Just make sure you spell them right.

RAILS

I emptied the coal out of the bath, it was bath night after all, filled it with warm water and jumped in, pure heaven. Applied liberal amounts of soap and watched the bubbles slowly form.

Deep in thought, pondering the workings of the world, I reached across for a paper to read, why waste a good soak I thought, may as well read.

Some where along the way, my arm got tangled in the power cord of the portable electric heater, I tugged and it fell into the bath. Power to the people were my last spoken words on earth.

PHELAN

Power is the fulcrum between free-will and free-action. The closer one draws the will of others the more extreme the actions of those will cannot be bartered and vice-versa. Sustained use of any one type of power, be it coercive, expert, reward, referent, or positional, cannot be maintained indefinitely without consequences. Equilibrium must always be maintained applying the lease amount of pressure to steady the beam in achieving those aims which are to everyone’s benefit. To do otherwise means small differences will require extraordinary effort to maintain control. If history teaches us nothing else, let it be this.

JEFFREY

The weatherman said it was called a derecho, a storm with strong, straight-line winds. Whatever its name, the storm packed a wallop. Power has been out for a week. Everyone in the neighborhood went through a version of the five stages of grief, except that in this case it started with hope – hope that the damage wasn’t so bad, that we’d have power back soon. Stage two was denial – “Not again!” we’d moan. “This can’t have happened again.” Then we went to acceptance, which involved eating everything we could from the freezer before it went bad. Stage four was anger – a powerful rage that the electricity wasn’t back on yet. After that we just sat in our dark houses, sweat trickling down our backs, staring glumly at our blank television sets.

Oh power, how I miss you so.

SHRUTI

There was a difference of not more than half a dozen words between the 2 documents on his desk. That difference decided the future of a man’s life.

He had always been against taking lives but how did he justify pardoning a murderer.

The voices of the prisoner’s 87 year old victim and 6 year old child plead their cases even in his sleep.

It was his first case as the new Governor. He could feel the pressure of proving himself to the people who had appointed him.

He signed the paper.

Power wasn’t as euphoric as it had seemed.

ROBIN

I raced to the basement, flashlight in my hand. I thumped the door with my shoulder as it scraped across the basement floor. The small circle of light picked out the dust covered fuse box, and I unlocked it and reset all of the circuit breakers.
Back upstairs, Steve and I prepared the time machine for its inaugural run. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again” Steve said, “If the power cycle is interrupted, it might go into a loop.”
The machine primed, he flicked the switch. The lights went out.

“John”, Steve said, “Go reset the fuses. Here’s the key”.

MUNSI

To love a woman, you must first learn how to properly respect a woman.

And to respect a woman, you must first connect with her.

Connect through eye contact, or physically. Touch her arm as you speak, brush hair out of her eyes. That’s a very real source of connection.

Connect intellectually. Ask her questions about herself, get to know everything about her.

But most importantly, connect on a deep, spiritual level. Like so…

I wanna know what love is, and I want you to show me!

I wanna feel what love is, and I know you can show me!

ANN MINA

I worried when we didn’t have a fight.

What would it be like? Was it possible to just not fight? Would it be THE END? Combining two oldest siblings seemed a recipe for conflict.

I needed to get prepared. Games have rules. Fights should have rules too. Even war has rules. What are the rules?

Can we agree that we’re not fighting about breaking up unless we say so? Because after all, that would be end game.

When I get scared, I’m going to ask you if that’s what a fight is about.

If not, we can work it out.

LIZZIE

She walked through the long bridge and thought “they made me do it”. She entered the hall. Empty stares followed her slow paces. The assembly was gathered, as expected. When she reached the end of the aisle, he was standing there; the stranger. “We are gathered here…” a blur of words bundled together screamed at her “… take this man to be…” and then silence. It was her turn to speak apparently. The only word that came to her restless mind was… “No.” A murmur was heard throughout the hall. But she still had the power to decide after all.

ANIMA

Jay and me, we met down at The Nasty Comment in the Tenderloin.
We shared a few beers. Maybe ten too many. Next thing you know, I am being fascinated by his tattoos.

I noticed them as he raised his fists, preparing to knock me one. Across his knuckles, POWER and GLORY, inscribed in blurry indigo.

Throughout the galaxies, ex-cons are alike, on twin campaigns of professing their innocence and getting body art done out of boredom and gang affiliation.
Just some races have more (or less) appendages to work with.

Rigelians, poor bastiges, are digitally limited to DO IT.

TURA

“Stone blunts knife. I win!”

“This knife is of mithril, forged by Elrond himself! Your stone shatters!”

“My paper is made of woven nanofibres, one molecule thick! A paper cut takes your arm right off!”

“My stone is a lump of neutronium! It bursts through your paper like… like paper!”

“The edge of my knife is a cosmic string! The tidal forces alone rip your stone into plasma!”

“My paper bears writ thereon the secret of the universe, the power to unravel all creation!”

Suddenly, a gigantic figure loomed above the combatants. “Time for bed,” she said. And they went.

ZACKMANN

“It is so hot in here, why don’t you turn on the air conditioning?” asked Joe
“My baseline power billing makes my electric rate effectively triple
if I turn on the air conditioner so I normally leave it off unless it
is over one hundred degrees.” answered Zack
“So why is it off now?”
“I would have it on but it only works when I have electricity and the
the power often goes out when almost everyone is trying to use their
air conditioners.” replied Zack
“Let’s drive to the mall and see if they still have their power on”

KATFANCY

The sun set and Belinda began her nightly routine. She turned on a flashlight, ate ¼ of canned meat, and turned on her radio. She tried to find music, but there was only talk about a county-wide power outage. Belinda fell asleep in the backseat of her car to the sound of complaints about no electricity. The next day, her co-workers whined about no internet and Belinda nodded in agreement, too embarrassed to mention that she has lived in her car for over a month now. Later, everyone got their power back and Belinda hoped one day she would too.

BOTGIRL

Not a day in your life goes by without influencing and being influenced. Every thought that runs through your mind, every action great and small, is a link in a chain stretching all the way back to the Big Bang.

You have never experienced an influence-free moment in your life. It’s no wonder that “being under the influence” is a synonym for intoxication. You are never sober. You get shit-faced on each potent idea that passes the gate of your awareness. As you read this, my words have already entered your mind. Feel the buzz. You’ve been influenced!

DANNY

Power is a very deceiving thing. When I think I have mastered it, all of my clients declare mutiny, refusing to pay their bills. Then my house falls into forclosure. I declare bankrupcy on the practice I spent a lifetime building. Well, it can’t get any worse than this. Mere moments after my silly declaration, the electric shuts off, and my entire house falls into silence. My neighbor runs over to the front porch, where I sit staring blankly into the darkness. “Dude! It looks like your power has been shut off!” “Yeah, tell me something I don’t already know.”

STEVEN

The clouds billowed around Josh’s father as he entered. “I’ve tried everything with them, and still nothing.”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

His father sat down heavily. “Yes. Set boundaries. Punishments when they broke the rules. Intervened when bullies were pushing them around. Even let them deal with the consequences of their own actions when they disobeyed.”

Josh smirked. “Perfect.”

His father’s brow and the clouds behind him darkened. “Perfect?”

“Yes, Father. Perfect.” Josh grasped his father’s shoulder. “And now I’ll just show them kindness and love.” Josh’s smile made cherubim shiver.

“And then they’ll be devoted to us forever.”

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

Power

Will had the power! It was all up to him now!
There was nothing he couldn’t do! He heard a dull rumbling that was unrecognizable.

The lower he went, the more it sounded like human voices.
Banking his arms, rotating down, like a bird circling its prey. The voices became clearer.

He heard words similar to his thoughts saying, there was nothing else they could do for Tom. It was all up to him
to come out of it.

The chanting began. My name is Tom! I need will power! It’s all up to me!
Tom woke from his coma.

Power

Pablo decided to trade his scotch to the local Wiseman. The vagabond had his bed in the alley around the corner.
Wiseman seemed to be the least washed people in the world. They seemed allergic to water!

The worse the invasion on Pablo’s snout, the wiser he thought they were. The lingering fog of alcohol couldn’t
dampen that wisdom!

Pablo was now the owner of a magic ticket with a power ball! The power ball made the magic that much stronger.
He just had to wait until the draw, then trade his ticket in for the truck load of money.

GUARD 13007

Within a few weeks, Life Field Relay Inc. found itself with the fortunes of several of the wealthiest people and in the pockets of several governments. Backdoor deals were forged, illegal agreements became completely legal, those in office came to stay in office, probably forever.

Slowly, all the power in the world drained into them, and people either worked for them or didn’t work. It took about a year for global domination, but it was a sure and steady thing, despite the constant attacks trying to learn the secrets that made their systems work.

It was now just “The Corporation”

REDGODDESS

“Power is a dirty filthy thing,” Lola said out loud a colleague. That word falls in the ranks of money, sex, tax and poverty except they’re brushed under the rug. Coincidently, these hushed social taboos take center stage during presidential elections. Once at the hotel, Lola has no time to worry about social issues, she has a new intern to train. She suddenly feels a strange sense of anxiety about coaching a trainee about what to wear, how to address guests and most importantly how to engage with the dragon lady. Lola walks back in the maids’ closet in anger.

CLIFF

I am a writer. I have the power of life and death, of creation and destruction. With a stroke of my pen, I can summon a pirate so dread that the navy of the British Empire quakes at the mere mention of his name. With a few words, I can tell you of a love so sweet, the angels themselves weep for its beauty. I can call forth armies, tornados, earthquakes, and floods. I can build a bridge to the stars.
And yet when the cat pukes on my bedroom floor, I’m the one on my knees scrubbing the carpet.

NORVAL JOE

The company picked their way through the twisted and bloated bodies. Some had limbs torn from away, others were headless, while many appeared to have merely dropped dead.
Spleen giggled and sniffed as he lead the company down one grizzly street after another to a hovel tucked in the back of a narrow alley.
An old man shuddered beneath a blanket in the corner of a single room shack.
“There was power in their eyes. They only looked and strong men fell dead,” the man whispered.
“Ive underestimated our foe to have an army such as these demons,” Shareeka said.

RISH

“Lookee here,” Wade laughed when he discovered little Nathan in his room.

“Your door was open,” his brother whined, lowering Wade’s Transformers.
“My room’s off limits.” But Wade hardly needed an excuse to terrorize his brother. He enjoyed his power over Nathan, relishing the fear in his eyes.
“Headlock or deadarm?” Wade offered, grinning.
“No, please–”
“Deadarm then!” proclaimed Wade, pummeling Nathan’s shoulder. Nathan wailed, and Wade ran for it. He was hiding in the cellar when Mom reached her crying son.
Hearing her calling, Wade ducked behind the waterheater. Nobody would find him there.
“Lookee here,” the boogeyman laughed.

PLANET Z

French philosopher Voltaire once said “With great power comes great responsibility.”

And then he was shot in the streets of Paris by a fleeing purse-snatcher.

His niece, the famous author Marie Louise Mignot, wept over him as his lifeblood flowed into the gutter.

She began dressing up like some kind of spider-creature and jumped around, throwing handkerchiefs at criminals.

“SNICKT!” she’d hiss, and then she’d make a wood-engraving plate of the scene for The Daily Harpsichord, where she worked as engraving-plate engraver.

Two years later, a mad surgeon threw an octopus at her, and she fell off of the roof.

Weekly Challenge #325 – Life (RFL Challenge – Part 5)

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Five, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Life, a special Weekly Challenge for Relay For Life.

(For more information about this challenge, please read this page and go to the show notes for part one)

Weekly Challenge #325 – Life (RFL Challenge – Part 4)

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Five, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Life, a special Weekly Challenge for Relay For Life.

(For more information about this challenge, please read this page and go to the show notes for part one)

Weekly Challenge #325 – Life (RFL Challenge – Part 3)

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Five, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Life, a special Weekly Challenge for Relay For Life.

(For more information about this challenge, please read this page and go to the show notes for part one)

Weekly Challenge #325 – Life (RFL Challenge – Part 2)

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Five, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Life, a special Weekly Challenge for Relay For Life.

(For more information about this challenge, please read this page and go to the show notes for part one)

Weekly Challenge #325 – Life (RFL Challenge – Part 1)

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Five, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Life, a special Weekly Challenge for Relay For Life.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

The entire show is available here: https://docs.google.com/open?id=0B-8mB8LyHDc2Y2ZCbmhOZWRqZkU

If you’d like to contribute to the Relay For Life in Second Life, the Relay Wizards For Spunky is the team that I was hiding behind while putting this together.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post…

JEFFREY

(No text sent)

VIVIENNE

Sunlight seeps through the darkness into her dream. She is young again. She wakes up smiling and excited. She is at her Grandma and Grandpa’s farm! She jumps out of bed and climbs onto the chest in front of the window. The clothes’ line below is filled with birds, cheeping and squawking. It is a new day and anything can happen.

Across miles and time, another girl wakes up in that same bedroom to the morning song of the birds. She screams for her mother. The ghost is back, kneeling on nothing in midair, looking out of the window.

BOTGIRL

“Stop!” Jim gasped, struggling to free himself as the sizzling red hot poker inched its way towards his spasming sphincter. “That was a fucking rhetorical statement.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Jones, but I’m a literalist,” Satan said without even the faintest trace of sarcasm. “You humans talk about hell LIKE it’s some sort of metaphor. How quaint. But a promise is a promise . . .”

“It was a stupid bar bet,” Jim interrupted in urgent desperation. “You didn’t tell me who you were.”

” . . . and a bet is a bet,” Satan continued. “You bet your life. Now it’s mine to use as I please.”

LETTE

She’d play Laura Nyro in the car. These days it’s mostly talk radio. She wasn’t expected to have these days. Years ago she wasn’t expected to have a daughter either. On the way to her last treatment (for half a decade), she heard Laura had passed, when she herself was becoming a survivor. Again. But not the last time.

Some take their second chance at life and follow the cliches up mountains and pyramids, down the Nile or out of a plane. By the fifth, it became simpler, about cherishing the gifts of music, talk, and her grown, improbable family.

ANN

In 1966 he gave me a silver ring.

The ring was tight, but I got it on.

I wore it on my right hand for years.

Then I took it off.

None were fooled.

I put it back on and bought him a silver ring for his right hand.

He wore it for years.

Then he didn’t.

I repaired his ring, giving it back to him for our 10th.

In 2009 I said, “Buy me a silver ring that fits, like the one you gave me years ago.”

I tried on every ring to fit my older fingers.

_one fit.

DK2MOM

Quality and Disaster

We had storms and lost power for several days. It amazed me that without power how quiet it was. Once the storm damage was cleaned up I had little to do so I sat on the front porch fanning myself, watching life go on around me.

It was business as usual for the robin on her nest who had survived the storm. Neighbors walked around chatting about the fallen tree that blocked our street. They wondered when power would come back or where the best place was to find ice or food.

Quality of life was still there, just different.

CHANTE

Moss lay on the floor, eyes clinched. Her legs stretched parallel while her arms extended at ninety degrees. She breathed shallowly to control the rise of her flat chest. Now Momma and Daddy would feel bad for grounding her.
“What are you doing?” Daddy asked. His toe prodded her.
Momma joined him. “What’s going on?”
“I think she’s dead.”
“We’ll miss her.”
Moss fought a smile.
“Well,” Daddy said. “I’ll put her in the garbage can.”
Moss resurrected. Her eyes popped opened. “I’m alive!”
“Thank goodness. The can was already full.”
He winked, and she forgave them with a smile.

MUNSI

It’s been said that life’s what happens when you’re making other plans.

And that’s why I make a lot of plans.

Some general plans, moving in with the woman I love, reworking my schedule to include more time to write, those sorts of thing.

Others are grander plans, building superweapons, using them to subjugate mankind, world domination.

I’ll tell you, the second thing’s better.

With that in mind I’d like to offer an addendum to the expression.

Life’s what happens when you’re making other plans.

Living is what happens when you’re blackmailing the United Nations using an orbital weapons platform.

SAFFIA

That summer before the war in the cottage in Provence. Father fighting with lecture notes and Mother with the domestique. Bobo, Josh and I running wild in the lavender hills with Lily and Veronique from the Villa Remin, and Martin, the schoolmaster’s son. Lovely Lily, so adored by Martin – yet it was me he kissed that night. As I felt his lips, I was already preparing the story for the girls at school.

Years later I met him again, a famous actor. He didn’t remember me, or the kiss, so I asked about Lily. He shrugged. “They were Jews.”

BOTGIRL

I’m lucky and know it. Not a single person I’ve been close to has died during my fifty three years life. I haven’t even had a pet die on me. It makes me nervous.

I know it’s only a matter of time. My father was in the hospital a year ago with what could have been a fatal illness. But he o recovered before death could pry my clutching hands from the icy numbness of denial.

I intellectually accept the inevitability of sickness, old age and death. But my heart won’t go there. I will not mourn until I must.

GRACE

They’ve told me that it’s peaceful. A gentle exhale. A whisper. One final note. But I don’t really know – I have never been there at that moment. Once I had the chance, but I decided to stay safely at home – far enough away so the last pulsating patterns of molecules would dissipate before they reached my face.

Now we have magnets on the refrigerator that remind us: “Don’t let yesterday eat up too much of today.” And “Finish each day and be done with it.” and oh shit, we better use this half off coupon before it too, expires.

MISTLETOE

When the golden-eyed baby came to the temple, the elders said her destiny was to bless us all with gifts of the gods.

I raised her, alone, sheltered from disease, death, heartache, betrayal. Her soul would remain pure, uncorrupted by life.

But as time and age took my strength and made me frail, she grew worried.

“I will go,” she said at last, “and find a way to cure you!”

Helplessly I watched her walk blindly out the door, into the world.

Now the elders say the girl is lost, that life will destroy her. I say they’re wrong.

VERIDIAN

They cant always get better..
But this is the dark side of life, it ends.
Sometimes, even the end is a grey area
.Here in this grey, I walk often.
keep them breathing,
beating,
blinking
. Is that life?
What quantifies the noun?
Communication?
Warmth?
or just simple function?
The answer varies

These lungs breathe,
this heart beats,
these eyes blink
but the soul lifted out of the vessel, leaving behind what others need.
Giving quality to the term for many
. Perhaps quantifying it for those left here to weep.
Simply
Life is a gift
Yours to have, to give.

KAYDEN

A Rabbit’s Life

A rabbit must hop. This one was crawling, his two back legs paralyzed. I named him “Earl”, and took Earl to the animal shelter.
“Not good,” the vet said. “He can’t live in the wild with those bad legs. Leave him here. We’ll see what we can do.”
Six weeks later, I went back, afraid, wondering if Earl lived.
“He was shot with a pellet gun,” the vet said. “The pellet lodged next to nerves. Good news, however – the paralysis was temporary, caused by swelling from movement of the pellet.”
Earl went back to the park, twitched, and hopped away.

A Meaning of Life

“It has no meaning,” Tony said. In great pain, he looked at Mary and held the gun to her head.
“They will be here soon, Mary. Our work will be done.”
“I choose to fight,” she responded, with a defiant radiance. “My life, and my death, will have meaning.”
“I can hear them, outside the door,” he pleaded. “An army – cold, soulless and bent with anger. They will pass no mercy or will not care if we offer a show of bravery.”
“Give me the gun,” she ordered.
One shot pierced the air. Then another. And two hearts stopped beating.

ABERNATHY

As much as Nora wanted to believe this was for research. She knew in the back of her head all research funding had been pulled six months ago, she was just obsessing. At this stage her obsession had taken to watching movies and listening to music. She went on speed dates just to hear what men thought the meaning was. No one knew the answer. People called her crazy. Her family begged her to stop the madness. Nora would not have it. She knew there was an answer. Returning the movie “It’s a wonderful Life.” She was struck by another vehicle and thrown from her car. She lay in the grass. With her final breath she whispered. “Oh. I get it now.”

CADY

KRISTIN

The estate was to be liquidated and part of the proceeds used to pay for her cats’ care for the rest of their lives. The remainder would go toward her lifedata storage, backup, administration and power costs. The development team agreed that since she had been both an investor and an early adopter, the digitization of the cats would be bundled with her package. They would be a familiar comfort for her once the conversion was complete. Thanking the attorney, the team carefully picked up the carriers. The lawyer silently pressed “Upload” and she began her journey to the cloud.

THOMAS

Mom brought me a cold drink. I had been under her car, ready to tackle the inspection and rebuild of the automatic transmission in her Mustang. I pried the transmission loose from the engine’s flywheel. A couple of quarts of warm, red, transmission fluid ebbed from the transmission tail section as I rested it on my stomach and between my legs. I started laughing. She asked, “What’s so funny?” I said, “I think I know a little of what it’s like to give life to something…you know, a baby.” She laughed so hard, she held her stomach with both hands.

Life begins at 80, or so I’ve heard. Only ten more years, and I can look forward to really letting go, letting it all hang out, and not be arrested for indecent exposure on public transport. I will be born anew, and the memory and consequences of all of my dastardly and despicable acts will vaporize. The abandonment of three families and nine children, a very large, overdue, income tax bill, scores of credit card balances, my military service, the theft of mother’s diet pills, and the promise of the donation of my vital giblets pledged to the organ bank.

LAUREN

Morning light crept through the slivers curtains sparkling the joy of a new day. Wake up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Ready to meet full light. Java in hand I head out to machine ballet movement. Engine purrs. Garage door opens. Roar. Park. Elevator. Office.Daytime noise smart phones, printers, fans, electricity harnessed. Lunch plastic packaged greens. Spacemen squeeze dressing. Green Tea. Afternoon light diffuses through clouded glass. Time clicks by. Elevator down. Shift to drive and home. Dinner, glass of wine, salmon colored salmon. Coffee. Chocolate. TV, Internet as the light turns to darkness. Bedtime. Life one day at a time.

ZACKMAN

I took a teen who is overly sensitive to noise, smell, sound, and touch, to Independence Day festivities in a Carnival like atmosphere with classic cars built before catalytic converters, diesel engines powering food stands, and crowds.
We watched a parade. The smell of someone smoking who walked behind us displeased the teen. He jumped when someone touched his shoulder to apologize for being too close to him. Sparks from someones illegal firework hit his jacket. As we stood on the pier on the river I thought Maybe life really is what happens on the way to see the fireworks.

LIZZIE

I put it in the jar, that glimpse of life I still had, to keep it, to preserve it, to be able to go back to it any time I wanted. But the more life withered the more I panicked. So, I opened the jar and let it fly. I freed life. Go, even if you leave me alone here to struggle with my pain, go. But life would not leave. It floated about and even when it seemed to go away, it always came back to sit on my shoulder and watch over me. There’s hope. And life nodded.

LELANI

“Life Is Whacked Sometimes,” by Lelani Carver

“Go in health, and come back in health,” she’d say. Then she got sick every time we traveled… so we stopped traveling.

We all texted updates compulsively that last week:

“Dad took Mom to hospice, but only until they deliver the bed.”

Later, “Dad says he might take her home tomorrow!”

But, “Your dad says she’s not going home. Bed delivery cancelled. Headed down.”

After the funeral: “Stopping off for raincoats.”

First shiva: “Your brother is creeping me out right now.”

Second shiva: “The smoked fish tray arrived. AWESOME. ETA?”

Next week: “I got the job! Life is whacked sometimes.”

GIDEON

I paused at the door, glanced back and said “I love you”.

She looked up from making dinner, “Hurry back. I love you”.

We had pledged to always say those words when we parted, no matter the reason or how long we’d be apart.

If something happened, we wanted the last memory in life to be “I love you”.

It seemed silly. I was going to the corner store. I’d be back in 10 minutes. I was.

But she was gone. Her note said it was some guy she met at an RFL fundraiser.

“I love you”. Right. Life sucks.

CINNAMON

They are gone!?!? I had no idea until someone told me. I look everywhere. Some are close by, others scattered and hidden. I pick up as many as I can find – under the couch, out in the yard, the cat is batting one around. I hold them in my hands – beautiful, jewel like, cold and smooth. My Cats Eyes, Steelies, Aggies and my favorite Clearie make a beautiful picture collected together in one place – almost… organized. I let my fingers feel them again. Stunning! I pluck one out, close one eye and let it fly. Another one – another direction… Shoot!

SERENDIPIDY

It was the crowning moment in human history – a moment that justified the enormous expense and endeavour of a generation committed to the exploration of space.

First contact? Not quite; but it could be extremely close.

A hushed mission control watched in awe as the images unfolded on their screens… remarkable, unbelievable alien artefacts.

And now, looming closer – a doorway.

The first astronaut approached, paused, then passed into the darkness beyond.

“My God!”, he exclaimed, “it’s…”; his voice cracked…

“What do you see?”, came the urgent enquiry from Mission Control, “is it alien life?”

“Not exactly… it’s full of pizza!”

SHADUW

Rain trickled down slowly. The man didn’t care. He zipped up his jacket, grabbed the handlebars and started to cycle. Gushes of cold wind tried to slow him down but failed miserably. Switching gears, the bicycler rode uphill. He could feel the pressure in the muscles of his legs. Controlling his breathing, he focused on the road ahead. With a quick swerve to his right, the car barely missed him on his left. It did not matter. Clouds broke and a warm blanket chased away the cold. He stopped, leaned forwards and smelled the roses.

EXPLORER

On Sunday, at The Perfect Landing restaurant inside a small airport that houses
private jets, small planes, and Flight for Life medical transport.

After brunch, we went to see a traveling B-25 WWII plane. Fanny was
introduced to the pilot, and Fanny said, “I’m a Holocaust Survivor.” The pilot
said, “There’s an older man in the plane who flew during WWII.”

Fanny said to Captain Bond, “In Muhlhausen Concentration Camp, we could hear
the planes above us, and we begged for them to drop a bomb on us.” Captain
Bond flew his B-25 Bomber over the camps.

Life is never scripted.

JEFFREY

A New Life in the Darkness

The entire solar system was at war. The pains and horrors of that war stretch from the blistering inner planets to the frozen chunks of rock that no one argued any more about their status as planets. The Earth started it, they would argue that point, but no one was blameless, and everyone had blood on their hands. Father Thomas stood in the center of the room holding the new life in his hands as he blessed it. As the world outside tore itself apart at least this made sense to him. The baby cried as he poured the water.

TOM

We of Martin Club Industries Biolabs Division are excited to announce a new product: LYFE a 2.00 bio-linker. Alpha testing proven so conclusive we’ve moved the ordering cue up six week. After winning the X Prize for irrigating the Sub Sahara, the link to Brooms Across Africa YouTube, is up on the web, our founder C B was quoted as saying “Well, what the fuck.” We took that as a big flashing green light.

“How does LYFE work?”

It so easy a child could do it. Just pour a cup of LYFE on a surface, add water, and 1.21 gigawatts.

Seicher Rae

The rulebook was ancient, ornately bound and worn. She spent days reading and re-reading its pages. With finality she closed it, hugged it tightly to her chest, and from memory whispered aloud each page’s content of intricate moves. This time the game was hers to win. With bated breath she waited for the countdown. Anticipation was a fist squeezing her entire body. Starting lights blinded her. It had begun. She could do it! A sharp yank to her abdomen caused her to gasp and cry out while her memory drained in panic. With newborn eyes she blinked, unfocused, into oblivion.

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

Don’t you just love that expression, “that’s life”?

The world comes crashing down all around you, one thing after the other.
Job stresses, family matters, economy freeze. Usually it all comes in threes!
Yeah shit happens!

Then some bozo who thinks they are being “helpful” spews out from ignorant lips: “Thats life!”
Let’s do something! Take a deep breath…nice, deep, slow…
Hold it! Don’t cheat now! No more breathing come on let’s do it we can do it!
Damn! Yeah we both had to exhale didn’t we? Now let’s take us a nice regular breath. There!

Now that’s life Scooter!

Life!
Through birthing
The journey begins
At first, caring essential
To grow strong and independent
Mentors guiding you on your path
You take your first few steps timidly
Confidence builds quickly within, you begin to run
Breaking free, setting your own path, desires dance dangerously within
World full to temptations, teasing you with bright shiny crisp apples
Past care and unconditional comfort, the guiding luminous light
Carefully protecting you from falling too far
Seeking out the worldly familiar wisdom
Floating on protective feathered wing
Light, gently pushing you forth
Purse strings, catch your fall
You are supported
And loved
Life!

Pablo and Espi began to rebuild their friendship.
He could not give up the evil scotch, it gave him such amazing dreams.

One star filled night, Pablo convinced Espi to mix a bit with her water.
She had a stressful day of resting in her owners lap, constantly being brushed and cuddled.
The scotch laced water disappeared quickly.

Pablo confessed his undying love for his dear Espi. Two star crossed lovers spent the night under the bright moonlight.
A cloud passed over the moon. A new life was created.

Pablo woke up feeling miserable but at least he had company.

PAPILLON

Life!

It’s 9am as I sit at the pc staring at blank screen; a hand hovers over a mug of tea, finger pads frivolously caress the warming porcelain shell which gives the outer elements protection from what lays within.

My world consists of walls there set in place to keep me safe from people who want to connect and cause disarray sending my safe world into a shattering tornado of uncontrollable feelings of inadequacy, doubts, fears, rejection, judgmental-ism. Even while typing these words causes me to panic, hands tremble; mouth grows parch fear rising while I type ‘Welcome to my World’.

DOC FRAN

No text sent.

DERRY

Strutting

I live with six females who are much more popular than I am.

Of course they are lovely and sweet with sunny dispositions; so why am I surprised?

The first suitor strolled into the house on Halloween, can you imagine?

He walked right in like he owned the place.

The next lives 3 doors down, he’s got ginger coloring and flirts with me sometimes, too.

Last night a new one arrived…strutting around the back deck, yelling for one of the girls to come out.

Oh Silly cat! They’ve been fixed, they howl for you to go away, not for romance!

BEAR SILVERSHADE

Life is what you make it. Unless you happen to be Death. Then, Life is just your smart-aleck sister.

Managing to look harried and blissful all at once, Life looked up as Death ran into their mansion, shouting, “That one was mine and you know it!”

“Oh, you don’t mean that peace treaty?” Life smiled in the irritating manner of older sisters. “I know you wanted a war, but I don’t want noisy gunfire during my big party.”

“No, no. You ate the last Ding Dong,” Death ran a finger along the sharp edge of his scythe. “That was mine.”

JULIE

Life is not fair.
Life doesn’t owe you anything.
Life hath more awe than death.
In my life, I’ve loved them all.
That’s life.

You only need to spend about five minutes remembering things your mother said long ago, or looking through Wikiquotes to find countless quotes, observations, and aphorisms on the topic. But the bottom line is this: As my eighteenth century literature professor was fond of quoting, “Life is short, nasty, and brutish.” Perhaps we live longer these days than folks did back in the days of Alexander Pope, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s still the truth.

MARIANNE

It’s In The Mix

The old worker scoffed, “Every day they truck in four types of flour. four! Sure, you’ve got your oat flour, That’s just obvious. But we have wheat flour, corn flour, and even rice flour in there. There’s a bit of sugar in there too, but it’s not like those guys on the Cap’n Crunch line. That stuff is swimming in it. Rips up your mouth.” He paused, and nearly whispered, “You know, some of the heath nuts complain about us having yellow number five in the mix. Gives it a nice toasty color. Sure, they complain, but hey… that’s Life”

JUSTIN

The phone rings.

I don’t usually answer, but who am I kidding?

Today, I’ve got nothing better to do.

“Is Mr. Payne there?”

Sigh. “Speaking.”

“May I call you Les?”

“Uh…”

“Great. Thanks. Man, Les, have I got a deal for you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Its a state-of-the-art digital picture frame, and it comes with –

“Uh-huh.”

a high resolution screen,

“Uh-huh.”

“Wireless remote,”

“Uh-huh.”

“Batteries,”

“Uh-huh.”

“You can surf the Internet…”

“Uh-huh.”

“It even has a touch screen. Just flick-”

“What about the pictures? Do they come with it?

Silence.

Then the Salesmen laughed. “No, ‘Memories not included.'”

Sigh. “State-of-the-art, huh?”

QUEEN

The Primal Gloop was depressed
if it had had fingers it would have tapped them.
Here it was, alone with itself
primal …and gloopy.
Every eon same as the others.
Not even a rib to make company from.
Its only friend more of itself…
which sort of obviated conversation
and any need to dress up.
Then a sharp blob of gloop
playing with its blocks, found it had
made some glup, which replicated more glup.
Soon a tall multiplied Glup-Form loomed
looking down, its hand out-stretched…
PAY YOUR TAXES it whined.
SHIT, thought Gloop, now …HOW do I make Death??

GUARD 13007

In 2070, it was discovered there was a universal field that determined where and when life occurred.

For thirty years, this discovery was a closely guarded secret. It turns out that if you can look at life as a map, you can see not only where it will appear, but where it will move to, and when it will die.

Due to a loophole in the laws of the UFE, the discovery was released at the turn of the century. A new corporation was founded, with the intent to use this field to extend lives. For a price of course.

LONDON

Everything started in darkness and silence. Then BANG! The universe was created, and millions of billions of stars shone their light. One of those bright suns created a tiny blue ball, 4.5 billion years ago. Within the next billion years a miracle occurred, LIFE. Microbial mats of coexisting bacteria swimming in a vast primitive sea. Years passed, things evolved into bigger forms. Plants and Animals. Synapsids,Archosaurs,Acanthodians, Gastropods, Therapsids,Insects and even Mammals, who we are. A big family alive. After that, Androids came…ooops but that is another story I forgot I only have 100 words to tell this one.

BIG SEAN O

“Yet the French orangutan steadfastly maintained that it was just a matter of time before his countrymen regained their senses, and resumed squealing curses and flinging excrement at tourists, as the French have done for centuries. What he couldn’t have foreseen was the dawn of the Great Banana Warfare gathering on the horizon, or as history would call it, ‘The Day the Split Hit the Fan’…”
“I’m curious, teacher.”
“About what, George?”
“Another war? Why does the split always have to be hitting the fan?”
“That, George, is life. Curse often, fling excrement, and you are guaranteed some nasty split.”

DR THOMAS

Today I watched my final sunrise and did the things only a mortal can do. Tonight I was becoming. I knew the way of it. We’d planned it for months. He would drain me, fill me with his blood, and I’d rise to my new unlife. Sunset. Dark. There he was, at my neck, drinking. When he paused I was nearing unconsciousness. He looked into my eyes and laughed. His head darted back to my neck. In that instant I knew. Planning was his foreplay. Betrayal was sex to the monster killing me and my death would be his orgasm.

CLIFF

Looking back, I have to admit that skipping college was a mistake. Sure, I got into the work force sooner than my friends, but there was never enough money. Of course, I got married because…well, I think it’s like a rule or something that you have to get married. Then came the kids. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against children but it would have been so much easier if we’d stopped at four. More than that and they just fall out of the car. Ah well. That’s Life. You spin the wheel and you take your chances.

TERESA

My Children are my Pride and Joy. I had five beautiful Children. Two Boys that I lost and Three Girls that I still have. I could never replace the boys I lost. But My girls kept me going. I was fortunate to help raise Three Boys that weren’t mine, giving me what I couldn’t have with my own boys. All the kids I’ve raised fill my heart with happiness everyday, my own children especially. Thru the good times and the bad We’ve always been a Family. I love my kids and will always be there for them no matter what.

SPUNKY

How Do I Escape

The air is escaping I feel like I’m suffocating. Never getting to leave, always left at home. feeling misunderstood, so alone. It’s like I’m in a box moving through the motions. Things never change, it’s always the same thing. Time flies by so fast, yet at times it feels so slow. I never know what day it is, never know the time. Tomorrow’s just a day away and still it’s always the same. Sometimes I can get away in my dreams. Then I awake and realize I’m still stuck in this body in this Life. When Can I get away?

KIMBERLEY

It’s painful going thru the motions of trying to get Pregnant. Being in Suspense when you take the Test. Hoping, Praying for Positive. Crying when it says Negative or Invalid. Feeling Hopeless when time continues to fly by with no results. I believe every Woman Dreams of being a Mother. Being able to Feel the first kick. Going thru the Pains of Childbirth, just so they can hold their Baby for the first time. Loving them thru the good times and the bad. Being so proud when they say their first word. Almost crying when they take their first steps.

ANNE G

How Long is Enough

My Life was Great, I had everything I ever wanted. A Husband and Three Kids to keep me crazy. A sister to keep me from insanity. A house to run, a car to drive. I did whatever I wanted, when I wanted and where I wanted. I went shopping all the time. Thats just how I was. I may not have alot of time. But I was able to spend time with my Sister on a Cruise. I got to say bye to my Daughter and leave this world to go to a better place. I never had enough time.

CATHY

He’s crawling towards the couch. He grabs on, pulling himself on his feet. I’m not sure what he’s doing. He looks at me as he takes his first step, still holding the couch. I scream with delight when he takes his second step an lets go. I almost cry when he starts to wobble, fearing he might fall. Then he straightens, smiles and takes another step. I call his name telling him how good he’s doing, saying he’s almost there. Four steps and he’s in my arms. I embrace him, telling him how much I love and care about him.

MARK K

My Life

My Name is Mark. I am 21 years old. For the past two years I have experienced several hard ships. I have been homeless, hungry, gotten into some pretty bad things. I was pretty much alone. I was forgotten by all of my friends, and neglegted by my family. My life had no meaning. I spent all of my time living and sleeping in a park. That is where I found hope. I met this amazing woman who took me in, even though she didn’t even know me. She gave me a home, unconditional Love, and a life worth living.

MARX DUDEK

The flowers. The trees. The warm grass against the soles of her feet. The weight of the summer air. The steady drone of the cicadas. The condensation on the glass of iced tea trickling over her fingers as she held it. The noise of the world in the distance as it moved along its well-worn path, oblivious to the phenomenal now taking place moment by moment. The hat that covered her bare head. The nausea that followed each treatment. The preciousness of each heartbeat that meant one more moment to appreciate on its own merit. One more moment. One more.

JUNE

Slither

Your death slithered up on me. In life, you were the most vivacious
person I ever met.

In eternal repose, you looked a creampuff, powdered and pink.

This is why I don’t like viewings. I managed to stay for yours. Hers,
I ran, I ran so far away, and knew nothing but tears until my brother
found me.

He’s the cold one. Encouraged by all fronts to swallow pain and make marmalade.

I wish we’d made jam with the peaches that grew next to your driveway.

Did the radiation kill you, or the loneliness?

The cancer did.

ANHAYLA

Kumihimo

I’m teaching myself how to do Kumihimo this summer. It’s a form of Japanese braiding with beads. There is something soothing, almost meditative, about the rhythm and repetition: pull thread, slide bead, cross, rotate, lather, rinse, repeat. Also? It’s time consuming and a little boring. The thing is, at the end you have this lovely, intricate length of beaded rope. I think it makes a nice metaphor for life. While you are in the process, actually living it, it may seem like you are getting nowhere, but then one day you realize you have really accomplished something intricate and beautiful.

RAILS BAILEY

100 words

As life goes it wasn’t a very spectacular one. I was born, I skipped through childhood always one step ahead of trouble.

I wasn’t well educated, I didn’t like sport, I was more a hands on type of person. Destruction was my forte. If it was breakable, then I was the person to break it.

I should have refused the challenge. It was only a van. Locked and silent. Begging to be broken.

Now I sit on the bed in my cell and ponder the thick door that keeps me in prison. Maybe I should have read more, that’s life.

FLEEP

I didn’t realize it, but I was actually holding my breath. I’m not sure what I thought would happen, I just knew something once said can’t be unsaid. I must have re-read it a hundred times, searching my heart – did I REALLY mean that? Could that be phrased better? I can’t think of anything I’ve written that I agonized over more. I wanted people to understand, not just be angry or knee-jerk, but really get why what happened happened. It wasn’t because we didn’t care, but maybe because we cared too much. SLCC was always complicated that way. I’m sorry.

SHAWNA

Striped yellow and black, a creature crawled onto the warm ledge. She shivered, as if with pleasure and unfurled her wings to the breeze. Her feet held tight as the ledge moved violently, and strong air currents buffeted her. Finally, the gentle breeze returned. The ledge stopped shaking, and sanity returned to her world. The delicate creature eagerly crawled off the ledge, back into the safety of her nest.

A gentle rocking and a loud noise as happened sometimes. The unintelligible noise grew fainter, “What the hell am I going to do about the wasp nest behind my truck mirror?”

RIVEN

RFL Campsite — The Steelhead Salmons, 2012

She turned her radiation therapy tattoos into a game. Connect the dots.

Four birds played major roles, all locked within their cage as she was locked within these walls.

The robin spoke of hope, but she could see his breast was red like hers.
The cardinal prayed and reassured her none of this was punishment for sins.
Two mocking jays dispensed advice, discussed her past mistakes and loudly squawked out clues.

A busy squad of shining robots kept her warm and clean, her faithful golden caretakers.

Above them all, the black cat stared and waited for the game to end.

Haley

Second life friendships are an ever changing stream of loves. Love
for your best girl friend….. love for your queendom and for your partner.
love for your relay team ,for your many many best friends.
the . loss…… is like a empty stage with the scenery
still there. …… as friends fall in love …..get married .
AS REAL LIFE RAMPS UP
in good and bad ways …….
they fade away and my second life is
never the same
I AM happy for them but will miss them always
.this is dedicated to the ones that stay ..they are the jewels in my
CROWN

UNCAS

The wizard of the village said the world will end at sunrise. So tonight we dance, play and remember how this world is amazing, beautiful and full of wonders and tell ourselves that next time we will love it more. But the sun came up. So we did it again on the following night. Sun came up again. And again and again. It’s a small village lost in the forests of Hungary,we have been doing is for over 3000 years, waiting patiently. When we meet in the morning we say “It’s tomorrow the end; today… have a good life”

AMBER

Just a few more clicks and she would be finished. Vacuous blue eyes stared back at her underneath a cute upturned nose at just the right angle.

The mouth was a pout with just a hint of a smile …Perfect! She adjusted her hair placing the tendrils framing the face.

Clothes next: jeans,t shirt and sneakers twisting and turning examined from all angles..Yes looked OK.

“This way ! Come on!”

Is he talking to me? “ How ?”

Slowly she tottered along walking in a straight line was not so easy. Already he was a blur in the distance .

An addiction was born.

PRAD

I woke up this morning, and lay in bed pondering life. It’s a strange, bizarre world which is constantly moving, yet nothing ever really changes. Then, I realise that life isn’t about the various things in the world that we live in. It’s about creating ourselves.

People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason the world is in chaos, is because things are being loved, and people are being used.

So then I got out of bed, and smiled at everyone I saw that day. And stopped caring about the materialistic things in life.

ATGET

He stood by the cathedral. Things around him weren’t the same. It took him some time to understand what was happening. He had gone to the past achieving his dream. Time travel. He felt euphoric and decided to sit in a cafe . Looking at the people going by, he drunk and thought to himself how easy things were going to be ,yes!! . From behind the columns, two men, in military clothes walked towards him. Sir, the War has started, you have to come with us. He was drafted, and boy, you bet his life was certainly going to change now!!.

DIONYSUS

Praise Dirt

Life? Still a mystery.

In the beginning, we got together Fridays, and He talked, whatever came to Mind. Something to do. That’s where eating and drinking came from.

This time, He started about how He came up with it — the Crown, the telos, all that. Never thought of us as life.

Said He had all this dirt, rocks, water, etc. etc. etc., and He thought, It all wants to go somewhere meaningful.

We didn’t get it either.

But we were throwing rocks in the lake next morning, and Lucifer skipped this rock about a thousand times, and said, Praise dirt.

Speculation

One of my three grandfathers approached life as speculation — he speculated in oil, in land, in hogs, in securities, and even in women, which partly explains why I had three grandfathers.

One early morning I found him on the shore of Batousis Lake, going to run his lines with his brother-in-law.

We were both hard drinkers in our younger lives, and I happened to be there after a night of carousing.

My grandfather hardly noticed me. He said, What are you doing here?, pushed out onto the lake, and left me standing there, speculating, as I still am.

NATASHA

The night had been tremendous. Apart from drinking and laughing , he couldn’t remember a thing . The bathroom tiles were cold and dirty. The light fought to penetrate the rotten ambience. A mirror on the wall hung from a rope. He washed his hands and stared at the face reflected in the mirror seeing a stranger. He jumped back and fell to the ground closing his eyes. He breathed in and out quickly. From the other side of the door he heard a knocking. Hello? Are you OK Son? It was his mother, suddenly he remembered everything. Oh what a life!!

PAM

The old man was heartbroken watching what his granddaughter went through;
Loss of hair, daily injections, chemo, missing school – all she had to endure;
Grieving and desperate, he prayed;
All his choices carefully weighed;
Take me lord instead of her;
My decisions made – I’m absolutely sure;
This child’s life has just begun;
While for me – well, mine is almost done;
After a few months, healthy and cancer-free;
She watched them bury her grandfather in the cemetery;
And within the year, her grandmother was also gone;
For you see, the price of this life was actually two for one.

AMALIA

Life is a blink of the eye. A moment on a cosmic clock. Humans are dawdlers and as such they miss the best of life. The smile. The happy tears. The giggle of a child at play. Humans are plugged in, logged on, connected. To machines. Not to each other. Afraid to touch or feel, unless it’s the click of a cursor or the push of a button. And when it’s over, it’s too late to go back and start over. The moments are lost, gone like wispy tails of a dandelion blown into the wind. Scattered over the landscape.
**

Next week’s challenge suggestion: looking down the well

I don’t have a recording of this but would be pleased if it’s read by someone.

ISAAC’S MIND and SHARON LEE

THE FIRST THING THEY told him when he emerged from the catastrophic healing unit was that his wife had died in the accident.

The second thing they told him was that her Clan was pursuing retribution to the fullest extent of the Code.

They left him alone, then, the med techs, with instructions to eat and rest. The door slid closed behind them with the snap of a lock engaging.

Out of a habit of obedience, he walked over to the table and lifted the cover from the tray. The aroma of glys-blossom tea rose to greet him

PAMALA

Stretching and deep breathing, I awake from a confusing dream to face, the comforts of my familiar room.

Yeah! Another dawn on the shadows of reality, as my life spins the plot of my thoughts and desires.

Life’s new day, is jiggling me awake with the promise of a new canvas to paint my creativity and vision upon.

Give me this life. The joys, the pain, the drama, triumphs, the anguish… all emotions comfort me, that I am indeed alive.

The fragility of life is its value, even if getting up is the biggest hurdle of the day. Transitions suck!

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

I was fifteen when I first saw a woman naked. My older girlfriend, in her bathtub, holding a bottle of wine.

She took a long gulp of the wine and threw her one-month chip at me. She smashed the bottle against the porcelain, red rivulets of fermented grape running across her pale skin. She threatened to slit her wrists with the glass.

She’d taught me that mayonnaise in cookies kept them soft. Soft like her lips, not like her fists hitting me when she tried to leave before help arrived.

Later, she thanked me.

Wine and flesh and soft cookies.

ANIMA ZABALETA

Get a Life! Jill sneered.
So I looked.
Hmmm… Costco…. bulk purchase… multiple personality. Un-uh.
IKEA? The designs are clean and simple. The assembly instructions are maddening. Do I want a life just like my trendy neighbors?
A Harley life has appeal, all loud and rumbly, but WOW that price tag!!
Hey, look at this… Here’s something on Craigslist. It’s not quite what I’m after, but close enough, gently worn and the price is right – CHEAP.
Think you could give a ride to check it out? I’ve been couch surfing at Sylvia’s, just until the band gets going, you know…

SELINA GREENE

Dignity

I view your profile, your avi glamorous as ever.

Offline.

You reserved your temper for those medical incompetents but to us, you were translucent and shimmering, already at peace. You stayed home for your girls, refusing opiates, in a wretched race against rupture to make it to your send-off party. And the very next morning, it all came down to a hundred capsules, a little apple sauce and the arms of those who love you, easing you away from pain and from us. In death, as in life, you went on your own terms.

For that, I am grateful.

(In remembrance of Sandy – one of the bravest people I’ve ever known.)

SCOTT

I was sitting in the comfy medical grade barcalounger watching her administer the chemo when the nurse saw my traitor of a tear.

“Sometimes its the biggest guys who crack a little,” she offered, along a stuffed bear.

I was not ashamed to admit that I clung to that bear when the sludge she pumped into my vein made me so sick I forgot I was doing this to keep living and wished for death.

I named her Mrs. Parker, keeping her on a shelf to remind me that I could stare down any fresh hell life wanted to present.

ESHI

God took a liking in Wendy because He felt He did a great job putting her facial features together. Also because
she laughed with such reverberance it would make His heart skip from infectuous joy. She was to be fortunate.

“What do you wish to be when you grow up?” – He asked.
Wendy looked up, squinted and wrinkled up her nose – “I wish … I wish to be wise!”

God’s heart started breaking as He ordered a nerve cell right above Wendy’s left adrenal to initiate
Neuroblastoma.

“Wisdom AND Fortune would have been too much.” – He comforted Himself.

SNIGDHA

For the past many years my life had consisted of the following: get dressed in the latest trending outfits from Prada , Gucci, Louis-Vuitton, Chanel. Get up in my luxury penthouse or in a suite in the Plaza or Ritz. Enjoy the best of everything that my talent fuelled.
But all this was about to change. A new species had crept into this world of extravagance. It was a species that wore faded jeans, ate doritos and lounged on the couch, bent over from hours of TV viewing.
Survival of the laziest: that was the new norm for the living.

DAISY MAE MAE

battle with uterus cancer

in march eight years ago..doctor told me when they were doing a some surgery they found some bad cells and it was stage two uterus cancer. i went in for surgery on the may the sixteenth

came close to deaths door..so i’m so glad i live to tell my story and to give other strength to deal with the battle..istill got to watch because i’m a care of the gene ..so i take one day at a time keep on fighting the battle

WHISKEY

Two hundred twenty. Two hundred twenty-one. Two hundred twenty-two. Two hundred twenty-three road signs since the last question. Quiet is a precious commodity, purchased with answers.

“What did you do when you were my age?” she asked with her cheek pressed to the window.

“Did you like middle school?” she wondered from the back seat.

One. Two. Three. Four. Sixty-two phone poles.

“How many books have you read? Like, millions, you think?” she mused, twirling her hair around her finger.

One. Two. Three. Thirty-eight exit signs.

“When we get there, will you hold my hand?” she whispered. “Are you scared, too?”

HOPE

Life is worth living even on the days you think it’s not! In the end when it comes the wave of triumphs through your challenges will be the light that defines you. The magic key to a successfull life is patience, persistence and personal self love. When you have these three P’s life will become clearer.

Or just say “Fuck You Life” and just not think about it. My “fuck you” stage is starting on its course. I’m learning that without the real risks there are never rewards. Jump in and gamble, you are only going to remember this life.

FELINE

I sit in the echoing Library of Life, pulling volumes from the dusty shelves.

His book is filled with cramped handwriting, like he wanted to fit extra words on every page. One passage makes me blush, and I reshelve the book.

Her book is a series of sketches. I smile when I recognize that coffeeshop in New York.

The next book is only half-filled, the text stopping mid-sentence. I wipe away a tear and slip the book back onto its place.

What about yours? Are you writing? Drawing? Tearing the pages? What will you contribute to the Library of Life?

KATFANCY

Ellie drove her neighbor, Rose, to and from the hospital daily for radiation therapy. The doctors caught the cancer early, so she had a good chance of surviving. Several months passed when Rose told Ellie she was now cancer-free. Ellie noticed that Rose was full of life, but she felt her own health deteriorating. She was uninsured and afraid of medical bills she could never pay off. Seeing Rose happy made Ellie finally get a checkup, but it was too late. Stage IV and no treatment improved her health. She passed away in bed as Rose cried next to her.

TISH CORONET

My father liked clocks. He would passionately explain what he’d done to get uncle’s souvenir cuckoo clock going again. It was mostly dirt, and he gave all those crusty gears the same bath. But he’d check for other problems as well. The tiniest thing could bring the whole mechanism to a halt just like that.
Like the tiny fibre he picked up fifty years ago, on his knees, carving tiles, carving out a living. He carried that bit of asbestos with him all his working life. Just after retirement it brought his whole mechanism to a halt. Just like that.

SARAH

The guardbot prodded Tressa in the ribs. “Step into the transport, Prisoner 5386U.”

Wincing, Tressa obeyed. The transport pod’s door slid shut. Tressa’s heart pounded and her secured hands grew slick with sweat. She closed her eyes and thought of her “happy place,” the rolling hills of her childhood.

The pod landed with a thud. The door slid back and flooded the pod with bright sunlight. Tressa blinked until her eyes adjusted.

“Welcome to Penal Colony 56,” the guardbot droned.

Verdant fields spread before her. Women in jumpsuits like hers labored amidst the greenery, unfettered by chains.

Tressa smiled.

SHINIGAMI KAYO

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the morning sun bathing the room. I could feel the heat already and knew this day would be a cooker; but my attention as always was elsewhere. The ideas and plans I would line up that gave me a sense of purpose would of course never be started. I needed to organize them in my head, pretending all was still normal. Depression is not about being lazy. Only unmotivated. Empty. You spend too much time here, unmotivated becomes a lifestyle. So if I speak to God sometimes, its because I am lonely; not necessarily salvation.

ALEX HAYDEN

He knew he was wearing a huge grin on his face, but he didn’t care.

He was in the moment.

He watched her sleep. How many times had his friends told him about this? More than he could count. He hadn’t believed any of them at the time.

Not now though.

He could feel his eyes begin to well up with tears, but again he didn’t care. He was happy. If he did nothing else in his life, he knew today he had done something worthwhile.

He gently stroked her face. And in her sleep his newborn daughter sighed contentedly.

ISHTAR

This time of year is very special to me. Behind the camera I see everything.

On that dark desert highway I see a light in the dark. A smile.

Others have asked “Why take photos in a virtual world, none of it is real.”

Through the camera I see the only real answer. I see the emotions, creativity, the passage of time”

Crying and Loss, Tears, Joy, Laughter.

“The people are real, their stories should be told, there not living it up in the “Hotel California”.

Then I take the shot. Click. I am a photographer, It’s what I do.

LOGAN BERRY

Jeremiah was a bullfrog who had recently taken to hiding in the far corner of the swamp behind a slimy green stone and protected by a canopy of bulrushes. Jeremiah was afraid of croaking.

The Green Angel appeared to him while he slept and gave him three choices: “Would you rather live and die, have never been born at all, or die and live forever?”

Jeremiah loved life and trusted the Green Angel, so when he awoke from his bullfrog dream, he climbed to the top of the slimy green stone, took a deep bullfrog breath, and croaked.

CICADETTA

She poked her long, slender beak into a long, slender blossom. “What are you doing?” the quivering petals seemed to ask.

“Babies are hungry. Gotta go!” The green bird zipped off with a sonic boom. Actually, it was a hum, but such flowers are really quite sensitive.

A few minutes later, the bird was back for more. “You know,” said the blossom, “I just feed my babies through my roots, if I have to. It’s much easier.”

“Yes, well,” the bird replied between gulps, “we all gotta live somehow.”

As the bird zipped off, the vine casually dropped a seedpod.

SEAN MCPHERSON

“Voice chat?” I said derisively. “I don’t have any interest. Besides, I sound like I’m 12. And no one needs to hear my voice. I’ve been communicating through a keyboard since I was 5. I don’t have to worry about the dog sitting on my feet and making me say something in a silly voice like “That’s a good girl!” Plus, I don’t want to worry about someone from work calling where I have to think about privacy. Why should I ever use voice for anything to do with SL?”
“It’s for Relay for Life” she said.
“Consider it done.”

BROKALI

When the judge said the word I couldn’t help but ponder it at length, before commenting for all to hear. “James David Prakter you are hereby sentenced to life without the possibility of parole,” she said. Why use the word life? I pondered. After all what she just said sounded much more like death. I’d never have sweet potato pie again, or make love to my wife. I’d never cry or laugh at a movie while sipping soda and eating popcorn. All this punishment because I killed an intruder escaping from my home, how is this justice? Thanks. I said.

REDGODDESS

(No text sent)

HUGH

He found a likely corner and put on the little red hat. It was kind of a cliche, but people expected it. He set up the bucket and rang the bell. Somewhere time ticked by. One more coin, he promised himself. Then, he could get out of the cold. Someone tried to dip their hand in the bucket. He couldn’t have that, So he ran out and jumped on the thief’s head. There was a satisfying bop. Somewhere, a chime rang. That made a hundred coins. Which meant an extra life. The Save a Princess Foundation was finally getting somewhere.

LANDON

I remember my savior, someone I looked up to for making me a better person. I was bullied quite often as a child– physically and verbally. This person stood in their way and protected me, and taught me how to protect myself. She brought me to the world of charity fundraising and allowed me to coordinate my own carnival to raise money for the American Cancer Society. We raised over 3000 dollars together. My savior was Sheryl Ferguson, my 4th grade teacher, and her efforts will never be forgotten. I was honored to be able to give my teacher Teacher of the Year Award, awarded by the State of Ohio, just three months before she died.

TARALYN

A Second of Your Life

There have been several times when I have wondered, is life worth living. If you let yourself lose track of how beautiful nature is, and how amazing it is to smell a flower and only focus on the pain you are feeling, the answer can easily be no it isn’t. Someone told me you choose to be happy, and in the scheme of life the crap you are feeling is but a second of it. So when you get those thoughts during a bad time, tell yourself. ….I can make it through this second of my life, it’s worth it.

STRAWBERRY

I was raised to always live my life for others, to give as much as I
can and sacrifice for the sake of my family. Until recently, I was
pretty content with that situation.

Lately though, I’ve been starting to feel a bit trapped. Why should I
feel guilt or regret for going after my own desires? Why should I not
be able to live my life, for myself?

Am I being disloyal, disrespectful or ungrateful? Whose life am I
living anyways? Mine, or theirs?

Is it my fault I’ve ended up this way?

It is my life after all.

SARAH

Sometimes, when things are bad, I pray. That might seem trite, but I figure if God put me here He can at least listen to the crap I am going through. I usually imagine Jesus sitting in my kitchen (barefoot, robes, full beard and all) eating a peanut butter sandwich. He’s just eating and sort of cocking an eyebrow at me while I rant. When I’m done, I imagine he licks his fingers, hops off the counter, hugs me and whispers “I love you.” And suddenly, it all seems better. Maybe it’s childish, but it stops the aching in my chest.

ALEXANDRA

My life is not a story, nor is it entertaining. Yet, it is real. A huge part of my life is Relay for LIfe. Relay for Life has heavily impacted my life. Because of this, I dedicate a great deal of my personal time. Many do not understand the intensity of this. Relay for life has a real meaning. A Cause!
I relay for those fighting, those that will fight, and that no one ever has to make that fight again!
I relay for everyone; your friends, loved ones, neighbors, co-workers, acquaintances, and mine, too. I relay for you. I relay for me. I Relay For Life!

CELESTIALL NIGHTFIRE

As a small child I was fascinated by my father’s hair. My father had a full head of nearly black hair.
Until, he showed signs of aging. First, there was a touch of grey at the temples, and then salt and pepper colored hair covered his head. Finally, all white hair.
Last month my mother called to say, “Your father still has a full head of hair. Most men his age don’t even have hair, and after two years of chemo and radiation, your father still has all of his hair”.
I was smiling, as my mother disconnected the call.

Dr. Evealine heard the HG’s signal and realized…”Too far back, I’m unraveling too far, MUCH TOO FAR!”
Five years passed before Dr. Eve conceded that she was beyond the known Time-Strand, and there was no way to Rewind the HG’s pod. This Unravel had deposited Dr. Eve into a glorious garden of peace and plenty. In another 300 years, Eve realized exactly where. Despite not aging or suffering, the realization was not joyful. Everyone she loved would cease to be.
In direct opposition to the first 32 years of her life, Eve now spent her time looking for…a Man. Just…one…Man.

Live ansible feeds showed the Exo-Planetary Sci-Lab’s unauthorized experiments. My instructions: Terminate any life-forms created in the Copy Lab.
Three hours later, all live specimens were destroyed. The Copy Lab Synthesizer was all that remained. My hand had barely touched the Synthesizer, when I felt the jolt. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. We both stared, and I saw the cut from my morning shave…on his face. “My name’s David”, I said. He replied, “My name’s David, so let’s pronounce your name… DaVID”.
Our ship ascended, David glanced over, nodded, and I fired the Destroyer Blast.

The package said, “Miracle Seeds”. “Guaranteed to Grow, Like Magic!”
Radiation Suit on, Richard climbed up to the hatch, and stepped into The Desert.
As Richard pulled open the package, a sudden wind knocked him to the ground, and swept away the seeds.
Next day, the hatch would not open. Nor, would it open any other day.
Over time, the seeds were forgotten. One morning, voices from the hatch, startled Richard.
“We‘ve found The Jungle epicenter!” “25 years of growth….oh, bring a chainsaw, I see an old shelter. “
Radiation Suit on, Richard stepped from the hatch, into The Jungle.

Jackson looked at the scene. House split in two by a tree, and the family’s cat killed. Man’s wife had survived, but still, bad luck for this Butch guy.
“Hey Butch, looks like 2012 is not your lucky year, but I’ll bet 2013 will be great”. Jackson thought it helpful to say something positive to those with bad luck.
Butch paused, and thought back three years to his colon cancer diagnosis, colostomy bag, being bed-ridden. May of 2012, he was cancer free and ran the Mini-Marathon with his oldest son. “Actually”, Butch said, “2012 is a lucky year for me.”

DANNY

I like tacos, and you like burritos, lets get together and make chimichangas. This is our mexican food love story. Run! Run! Run! Poliocia! Run for the bell; Taco bell. Thats were our love is safe. Thats were our love is sacred. Extra taco seasoning, extra chipotle sauce, extra love salsa. girl your so spicy, like
my favorite jalapeño. Cola in a glass bottle, open the top and lets float away in the fizz bubbles, just you and me. And we can eat tacos and burritos, and maybe even chimichangas until the night turns to a sunrise fiesta. Good times

PRETTYKITTY GUMBO

Why I Relay

I relay for the wonderful friends who have touched my life, who are fighting this horrible disease… For my dear friend Theresa, who had a huge smile, even when hopelessly sick. A hurricane badly damaged my home, and we could not get a contractor. Another Hurricane lurked, off-shore, and I declined help, not wanting to burden people who had problems of their own. A car pulled up, filled with Theresa, her Husband, tar paper, and tools. Despite the heat, Theresa worked on that roof with the men. I will NEVER forget the spirit and love of our friends!

I Pray for A Cure To Cancer

SHANDON

A rubber ball, two screw eyelets, a broken toilet brush. Did I say broken? There are NO bristles at all! Why would I want that? Tom Sawyer and Nancy Drew.. First Edition?? Nah. Since eBay no more first editions. Aaaagggghhhh!! My ears!! Quit pinching him!! What is that smell? Seven days ago I saw her ride up on that flaming yellow bicycle with the flowery basket. She spoke to me, not a long conversation, Hello. Sorry about your foot. But she spoke. To ME! Seven days ago. Haven’t seen her since. Every Tuesday at the thrift shop – Hope springs eternal.

DIRK

Each star is the soul of one departed
A bell sings out, an angel receives wings
One close takes a new path where I cannot see
Have they ceased to be?

No…

While the light of their face shines for me
their voice echos in my ears
their memories fill my heart

… they are here.

I travel my own road, but always feel them close
They are gone, but not. They will forever live in me

Hurt mellows, tears dry.
Stories shared bring back the smiles
… some day, I, too, will be a memory

For today, I live.

CALEDONIA

It’s on the TV. I can see it. At least it seems so. You’d hardly recognize it, all illuminated RGB Plasma (or something), as what I live every day. I flip over to the Hallmark Channel where there’s yet another sappy movie I don’t want to watch. I flip over to watch a travel show on PBS. My attention wanders from “Salsburg and Halstatt” to the bee buzzing around my strawberries on the deck, the sound of sunset breeze in the poplars next door, the cat happily languishing in a patch of bright sunlight. Life in not on TV.

DANNY

Life is Magi, that awesome Spanish beef, chicken, or vegetable boulion that makes every homemade dish just perfect. Life is the woman you swear undying love for, knowing she will never feel the same about you, but you just go on knowing you had the privlege of mere fleeting moments just standing by her side. Life is spending the weekend with your mother who survived cancer. Life is the pain of losing of your entire lifes work to a faceless corporate bank, only to face the thrill of victory in the Supreme Court.

JAIMY

I have so many emotions going through my head. can’t control how I feel or what I say. I hurt everyone I love, but at the same time I feel like they’re hurting me. I wish this thunderstorm of emotions would just pass, let me free. Sometimes I cry out of nowhere and I laugh when nothings funny. What’s got my world turned upside down, I’m afraid every time I open my mouth I might say something I don’t mean. I worry that I’ll never be the same, never get over my issues. When I get back to normal.

NORVAL JOE

Elbownor sprinted across the field to the castle and skirted the wall to the gates. Owen felt his stomach turn as Spleen, the half-goblin, bolted from the company and followed the elf, running at times on all-fours. Elbownor turned and waved the company to come, even before the goblin shot past him, through the open gates.
“Such a horrible loss of life,” Shareeka said as the company joined the elf. Countless rotting bodies littered the narrow streets of the city.
“But why?” Owen asked.
Spleen trotted back around a corner, wiped his mouth and said, “I’ve found one still alive.”

DANN

Maine: The way LIFE should be.
It was sad to watch everyone. Because no one wanted to be sad. They wanted to be normal. Regular. They wanted today to be a regular July 14th, just like 2011, 1992, 1985, when cabins 2 and 9 and the rest paid their bill and went back to Virginia, New York, Massachusetts, wherever was on their license plates.
But for two weeks every July they’re from Maine.
Maine means four pm cocktails on the beach. Maine means a floating cooler in the middle of the lake. People show up and a Fire happens. It’s what they do. I mean did.

MATTHEW

“Holy Jesus!” Carla said. “What is that thing?”

“It’s life,” Fred said. “I just made it.”

“That’s the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen! It’s got, like, toes around its mouth!”

“I don’t think that’s its mouth.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just followed the directions on the box, see?”

“This is a box of macaroni and cheese.”

“What? Oh. I guess it didn’t come out right.

“Didn’t come . . .? You’ve attained whole new levels of fucking up mac and cheese!”

“The milk was expired.”

“How expired?”

“Thirty seven years.”

Carla stared at Fred.

“I found it,” he said, answering her unspoken question.

TURA

We reinitialised Robbie today. Strange how a robot can work fine for years, then one day it just goes “ur-ur-ur” and you have to wipe its brain and start over.

Sometimes it happens to people. Crackpots, conspiracy theorists, alien abductees.

And then, some just go on getting better. I met this robot in India once, the locals treated it like a saint, and I couldn’t say it wasn’t. It was doing more for them than any stone statue, and all their offerings went into upgrades.

I reckon that life, you’re born with, but a soul you have to work for.

SALOME

Life’s Defense

It began with the nothing from which all somethings grow.

I was there, vulnerable, germinating. I crept into your dreamery and took what was mine to take; left what was yours to bear.

You walked with me; breathed me in. The fear and beauty. The eternity of every lonesome moment, the ecstasy of each acquiescent howl.

So you invented hope and you invented light. Metrics to account for me. The slow precious pulse. The beat. The beat. The beat.

I am not against you. I have never been against you. I am just the nothing from which all somethings grow.

PLANET Z

Sure, the commercial showed Mikey eating Life cereal, but when the director yelled “CUT!” and the cameras stopped, Mikey ran to the back of the set, stuck his finger down his throat, and vomited.

“Can’t I eat Cheerios?” he asked. “I like those.”

“No,” said the director. “Cheerios are round. Life is squares.”

Mikey whined for a bit, and his mother shook him until he stopped.

Ten takes later, the director shouted “THAT’S A WRAP!” and everybody heaved a sigh of relief.

Mikey heaved up his stomach’s contents back into the bowl, and forced one of the other kids to eat it.

Weekly Challenge #324 – Rain

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Four, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was rain.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

TOM

It seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s likely they’ll put that on my tombstone. After all we were in Hawaii and the hike/climb to the top of the volcano was rated gentle to moderate. How many chances do you get to go to the rainiest point on the planet? The first 90% was more a fire road. Now the last bit was as bit more tricky. First rocks, then wet rocks, and finally like sitting inside a vaporizer. Just before reaching the top a pair of slime covered hikers passed.

THOMAS

In nearby Forks, Washington, the rain is measured in feet. The average about ten feet a year. Folks there are moldy and smell like damp dog fur. The people are plain, unassuming, country folk that work in lumber and the nearby corrections center. They also pick the wood’s floor clean of morel mushrooms. Forks is the wettest place in the United States. Flooding is so common there, many new homes are built on stilts, and they are all made in such a way, that they can cast off and float, uncoupling quickly from their utilities with special connectors and fasteners.

The game rained out. When it comes to sports, Fran Lebowitz said that she was not particularly interested. Generally speaking, she looked upon them as dangerous and tiring activities performed by people with whom she shared nothing except the right to trial by jury. I agree. The cancelled game was no loss to me, but a big disappointment to the gang at the tavern. They got together to buy combustibles, and burned down the old coffee shop, next door. At this time of day, they were drunk, and they had to find another diversion for the rest of the weekend.

When it rains, it pours. A spate of bad luck put Cameron in a funk. He failed his bar exam for the third time, with an even lower score, and his encounter with Jezabeth–by talking about himself through the date, and texting while she tried to make conversation. He made up his mind that blind dates and dating services were bunk. They took time away from his drinking and telephone conversations. Cameron failed his second speed date by getting to the restaurant early and drinking so much wine that he dozed off twice as the waitress took their order.

ZACKMANN

On a rainy day My teacher Corky, yes this was in tech school therefore many teachers had first names, told me how he was shorter than he should be because he grew up in Minnesota and three fourths of the time he walked with his head down to avoid the rain, sleet, and snow.
This somewhat confused me since I grew up in Minnesota too and grew to almost six feet tall.
Later, I found out that my former teacher was really a very tall elf who came to our realm to study science since his world was losing magic.

SHRUTI

The Dragon Slayer

The mud had turned to slush and the town was still far away. The dragon’s head was getting heavier by the minute.

He would need a change of clothes before he presented himself in the king’s court. He was drenched down to his underwear.

Like all good fairytales, the king had promised him farmlands and the choice of any girl in the kingdom to be his wife.

This would prove to them why his books were more precious than swords and gold.

After all, the 74 royal knights before him hadn’t figured that dragon’s couldn’t breathe fire in the rains.”

Hope you like it! My other stories can be read at the link below

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

After a grand performance to great ovations, Clumsy the Clown emptied his flask of scotch into Pablo’s water dish.

Faint memories of hitching a ride, in the rain, on a truck full of chickens, rolling around in feathers.
He awoke in a strange town near a fire hydrant, covered in feathers.
His head hurt. Pablo felt awful. No more scotch for him, he thought as he drifted back to sleep.

A few hours later, a vision appeared in front of him.
Espi, his best friend who had moved miles away, was looking disapprovingly down at him and shaking her head.

RAILS

Deep in the recess of my mind, where the dust gathers in silent piles, where distant memories evade the light and refuse to come forth to be relived lives a silent corner, where all the horrors hide.

Its darker than the deepest coal mine, its silent, a place where even I dare not tread. Boxes of Horrific memories are stacked, each one sealed, never to be opened.

As time passes more dust gathers, burying the horrors of a life lived.

The thunderstorms of my mind cannot wash away those horrors, the seals prevent cleansing rain entering the dark haunting places.

SERENDIPIDY

It courses down my face, soaking me through; clothes clinging to my skin.

The cold rain rouses me, causing me to shiver, to remember who I am and how I came to be here.

Both the feeling and the thoughts are deeply unpleasant.

Yet the relentless rain cleanses and purifies me – washing away the horror of what I have done.

Through rain-streaked vision, I watch each ruby drop fall from the tip of the knife, tainting the swirling eddies at my feet, then swept away into darkness, like the lives of my victims.

Revitalised, I return to my task.

PAM

Jen leaned back in her office chair glancing out the window at the rain running in the gutter. Sure enough, it was falling so hard it was only a matter of time before . . . minutes later, she was being led to a basement by a woman who was definitely not happy. The Roto-Rooter guy was already there – a guy she’d known all her life. He had dated her best friend. Funny how one day you’re young and out causing trouble on a Saturday night and next thing you know you’re middle aged and standing in the middle of sewage.

Jack took a drag on his cigarette as he walked up. “Hey, some rain last night, huh?” He glanced out over the basin, “It was so bad, looks like most people stayed home and had some fun.” Joe followed Jack’s gaze over the tank. Hundreds of rubbers bobbed up and down blown up like balloons among all the bubbles on top of the aeration bay.

“Yeah, damn rubbers. Do ya think people ever consider what happens to em after flushing em down the toilet?”

“Nah, are you kidding?! Come on – I’m hungry, let’s go eat lunch.”

MUNSI

Milli Vanilli sang that you should blame things on the rain.

I’d thought this was a cop-out, a way of avoiding responsibility.

But as I’ve grown, I’ve realized they’re right. Some things in life are beyond your control, they happen TO you, not because of you.

And at times like that, the best you can do is blame it on the rain and hope for better next time.

Though I can’t help wondering…

Stripped of their Grammy, tour cancelled, Milli Vanilli were the laughingstock of the music industry. A punchline, forevermore.

On that day, who or what did they blame?

RICH

He heard them that day and took their command to heart.

From the time he was old enough to be enlightened to the social structure he worked to establish his position. Moving from his humble beginnings as a lowly serf to the time when he ruled all he surveyed he was able to establish his position in the hierarchy. He commanded armies, debated politicians, collected taxes and heard the platitudes of his court.

One morning as he rose from slumber he heard his queen from the window exclaim, “Sigh. Rain again.” It was then that he realized his earlier misunderstanding.

LIZZIE

Drip, drip. It was difficult to walk on one leg. Fortunately Lord Heavenly had chopped John’s leg, not his life. John crossed the patio and searched for the gold coin. It was not under the vegetable cart or the empty wine barrels in front of Wimpey’s den. He searched everywhere. He would buy a nice sword, he thought, lusting for the gold. Soaked and impatient, he suddenly slipped and fell against an abandoned sickle. It dropped violently. Well, now he had done it, John thought. Drip. And he didn’t even remember anymore why Lord Heavenly had chopped his other leg.

TURA

God, what was I supposed to do with the giant lizards? No way would they fit on board. And about the unicorns, sorry, but after forty days and forty nights we’d run out of food. Tasted of horse, if you want to know. You ask me, we’re better off without. Wicked temper and a big dagger on their heads.

If you want them, why don’t you just make some more? You can’t, can you? Well, well, how are the mighty fallen. Created all of this in six days and now you can’t do any more than piss on us all.

SNIGDHA NAUTIYAL

The strain of a cloudy day was beginning to take its toll on him.

A headache wandered along his mind’s edges; it was terrible to be walking down the street at this godawful early morning hour, under the vestiges of last night’s abundant alcoholic intoxication.

He made his way over to his favourite tea-stall; climbed onto the bench in his regular corner. The little boy who acted as server there brought him a cup of weak, thinly composed tea with biscuits.

Close by, a group of people played carom. It was that sort of day.

Soon, it began to rain.

GUY DAVID

The last of the Porcupine Caribou waded through the snow. The hunter pushed on, already thinking about the money this stuffed animal would bring him. He could see it in the distance, a brownish white spot on the spot white snow. He just had to get closer, within shooting range. He moved stealthily and quietly until he could almost smell the prey. Suddenly, the reindeer looked up, his eyes intelligent and sad. A shot was heard and the hunter fell dead to the snow. The protector smiled, walked to his beloved pet and gave it a rubbing behind the ear.

AUSTIN

Droplets of water plinked off the cold windows of my house. A knock on the door gave reason for father to answer. As the door swung open, a man humbly asked for shelter. Being Christians, we couldn’t say no. He stayed in my room. I slept in the basement, it’s door had a cross painted with lambs blood, so to speak, and the stranger was the angel of death. That night, the stranger stumbled silently from room to room. Each time, his knife became bloodier. My mission “given” to the man was complete. I could eat my cookies in peace.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

My mother’s hand slicked back my wet hair. I fidgeted in the damp polyester suit. “Rain is when God is crying,” she told me, as I watched my father’s casket lowered into the ground. My tears mingled with God’s.

Now I watch from outside the League’s satellite. I watch the normals slaughter each other. The suited UN politicians argue whether to chastise genocide. The spandex-suited heroes of the League debate whether to intervene at all. My tears boil away in vacuum before they join the rain.

Enough tears.

My tears may not reach the Earth’s surface.

My heat vision will.

REDGODDESS

April triggers more than pouring rain in the city. There is a flurry of work projects and birthday celebrations, including Lola’s. She purposely doesn’t share her birth date unless someone asks directly. She does not like surprise parties. Today, she visits a French bakery for her favorite hotel guest. Standing in front of the glass counter, Lola’s eyes widen at the sight of the sugar painted wonders. A double layered velvet chocolate cake suits her dessert loving guest so perfectly. As the cashier hands her the boxed cake, Lola suddenly realizes, she did not eat cake on her last birthday.

CLIFF

Sheets. Buckets. Cats and dogs. There are a thousand terms for rain. It can come in the light annoying mist that turns your windshield translucent. It can come in huge driving drops that batter you as you dash from car to house. There’s the needle sharp rain that penetrates no matter how tight you pull your coat. And of course, there’s the gentle soaking rain that feeds the ground and grows the crops. I remember all of them. Back when we had rain. And crops. Back before the sky burned and the ground died. Back when we still had hope.

DIONYSUS

The rain shower approached through the wood with a slight rustle of leaves, some huge but invisible beast. Darkness — a second primeval power — had fallen around the two children, wrapping them in its thick embrace. The mysterious beast and night approaching they huddled together beneath the fallen tree, each clinging more tightly to the small security of the other. The dense coagulating smell of rot held them immobile, and with each drop from the gaping maw they trembled. The older one, the girl, whispered childish, incomprehensible syllables, which did not soothe. The dark chthonic drops pulled them, always down, into the earth.

DANNY

A group of friends steal the sneaker off a drunk friend, jumping on a subway train, abandoning him on the platform miles away from his home. Drunk, he stumbles right off the platform onto the tracks, falling onto the 3rd rail, where he is electrocuted to death. His friends return home to his mother with the sneaker they stole from him, stating he refused to leave the platform, never revealing the prank they pulled. 3 days later, after searching for her son, Mom learns the truth, and swears to rain hell on the friends whose actions led to his grizzly death.

NORVAL JOE

Crouched in the edge of the pine forest the company peered across cultivated fields at the walls of the city.
Wind blew at their backs and shook the tops of the tall trees. Pine needles dropped on them like rain.
“Why are we hiding and watching the city? Why don’t we just go in?” Owen whispered to the ranger.
“Something’s wrong, Owen. There should be guards walking the walls,” Traveler said.
The wind shifted directions and blew at them from the city. A stench of rotted flesh overwhelmed the company. Only the half-goblin was unaffected.
“Smells like dinnertime,” Spleen hissed.

PLANET Z

Heat shielding tiles came loose from the space shuttle, causing the vehicle to burn up and break apart on re-entry.

Pieces rained down over Texas, and investigators hunted down as many of them as they could.

One piece landed in a lake, and it was found after the drought caused the water level to shrink.

The pieces were reassembled to determine the cause of the failure.

Which, as I said before, was due to the failure of heat shielding tiles.

We glued the thing together, and then shipped it to New York instead of sending one of the remaining shuttles.

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon:

Inflict this upon: